Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd enjoyed me more than I enjoyed her.
It was natural however.
She requested me for a date, not I.
Her Musalmān husband had left her charging she had sexual relationship with me.
Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd made me responsible for her future.
“Sure,” I said gravely, “but I’m sixty five years old already. You are only twenty eight years old. I’m entire thirty seven years older than you. Would you yourself love to be a wife of a Hindu they call Anant Muslimātchod Hindu and who is thirty seven years older than you?”
Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd smiled cunningly.
“Do I have any choice?”
“Yes,” I said gravely, “We can be friends only. We can keep platonic relationship between us. You would still be my responsibility, nevertheless, not as my one more wife, as my one more respected Musalmān lady friend only.”
Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd smiled.
“With how many beautiful Musalmān houseladies are you maintaining platonic relationship now?”
I looked at her silently.
“You are right. Not with many of them. Sooner or later they need sex eventually and compel me to provide it to them.”
Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd looked at me ironically.
“You want to say you aren’t responsible for turning the friendship into a sexual relationship, they themselves are?”
“I want to say nothing.” I said gravely, “Use your own judgment.”
We had our usual make out session and as was usually the case, I came home with a painfully aching hard-on, even after fucking Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd as much as I needed. Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd ultimately requested she couldn’t take me anymore. I didn’t need a woman only, to quench my sexual appetite. I need a whole army of beautiful Musalmān houseladies. No single young Musalmān lady can satisfy me sexually ever. I need a military of them.
It was a Friday night.
I had my weekend ahead.
Saturday and Sunday.
Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd could not take me even the whole Friday night.
She took me six or seven hours only.
“Allah! Måshā’Allah! SubħānAllah!” Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd said completely exhausted, “I can’t take your ever ravenous ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund anymore into my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot. I thought perhaps my oral and anal services to you could help me. But even they aren’t enough to satisfy you sexually. I surrender.”
“It’s our first night, Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd.”
“Certainly not.” I kept smiling, “I’m hyper sexual while you are a normal woman. You are right. No single woman can satisfy me sexually ever. I really need a whole army of beautiful Musalmān houseladies to quench my ever abnormal sexual appetite.”*
I knew Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm was working late.
Therefore, when I got home I went straight to the bathroom.
I didn’t know the bathroom was already occupied.
How the hell had I known?
In her haste to relieve herself, Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm had forgotten to close and lock the bathroom door.
She was entirely nude.
Perhaps Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm needed some relief quick.
She picked it up and placed it around her finger.
Its smell was intoxicating for her.
She started fingering herself again.
Naked visions of Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm were flowing through my mind, when suddenly, I heard a loud gasp.
Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm had seen me standing in the bathroom doorway, with her hand over her beautiful mouth.
Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm ran from the bathroom immediately.
She didn’t even have the courage enough to dress herself.
Nevertheless, Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm didn’t run away from there without doing any mischief to me.
While running away through the bathroom door, she squeezed my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund boldly grabbing it entirely unashamed of herself and her entire nudity.
However, in my own eyes it wasn’t my Hindu masculine weakness at all.
Instead, it was my Hindu masculine strength.
Yes, I was proud of it.
Never ashamed of.
I’ve kept countless beautiful Musalmān houseladies alive, from committing suicide even.
They needed sex while they were being preached instead.
I confidently followed her trying to explain.
It was necessary.
She had quarreled with her husband,
Muħammad Åārif was stunned,
“Durgesh is not only my friend, Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm. He is Live in relationship partner of my sisters too. My sisters still live with me. We, entire seven sisters and one brother, me, inherit Abbū’s business. They are seven in numbers. How the hell can I keep their Live in relationship partner away from their own house? Their ownership on the multi-story mansion is seven times more than mine even.”
I told Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm I understood what Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm was doing, but she should have at least had the decency to lock the door.
“Who the hell is here except you and me?”
I wasn’t stunned.
“What do you mean?” I tried to discipline her.
In her bedroom, Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm was still nude.
“Don’t you understand even now what I need immensely?” Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm was a total rebel now.
“I need you and your still erect ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund is declaring it too needs my female services.”
“Dress yourself first.”
“I tried to adjust with your unnatural Hindu lifestyle.”
“I want to talk with you.”
“Put some clothes on first.”
“I’m more comfortable in this way.” Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm smiled cunningly.
“Well, I’m not!”
Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm laughed.
“Why not? You aren’t an anti nudism yourself. 24x7x365 you fuck us beautiful Musalmān houseladies. Certainly you are habitual of seeing our beautiful nude female Musalmān bodies almost always and even enjoy us sexually. What is new to you? I wonder.”*
I had a note on the fridge from Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl saying she would be out.
I figured I would lay out by the pool and get high.
I had snuck weed out of my Bahū Bégum, Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl’s, room before – she sometimes had a bag lying in plain sight but when I went into her bedroom it was as clean as a hound’s tooth.
I looked around her room a bit.
Nothing on the night stand, nothing in her closet, nothing in her bathroom.
“Ok, what about her TV stand?”
I opened the double doors to her bedroom TV cabinet and found nothing but the TV.
I did find a key to the movie cabinet down below and figured I would give it a try.
I took the key and opened the cabinet and saw my prize!
It was a nice big bag of magically delicious weed!
There were some pre-rolled joints in the bag too so I helped myself and went to open the bag when I noticed something else in the cabinet.
Along with Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl’s collection of sappy love-story flicks, corny comedies, and Disney Flicks, there were some adult DVDs!!
There was also a stack of erotic magazines and a black velvet bag that contained an assortment of dildos, vibrators, and lube.
Most of them were my own Sex videos with her own Ammī, Al Suraiyā Al Tāhir, and with her mother in law, Al Jāsiyah Al Saåūd.
There were three magazines which particularly surprised me because they were girl on girl flicks.
“Well well! … So Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl too likes beautiful Musalmān chicks as much as I do!” I thought.
I went through her DVDs and found more of the same.
Lots of straight guy, I, /Musalmān chick stuff with fucking and sucking and that sort but then I also saw she had a few lesbo/Sapphic oriented flicks as well as some movies with names like “Home-styled Swingers” with everything from young Musalmān ladies masturbating to me banging two Musalmān chicks at a time.
I was shocked but I was also now ferociously horny.
Was she interested in me sexually?
I never knew.
I grabbed a DVD from the cabinet and a joint.
I then went to Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl’s computer by the bed and popped the DVD in the drive.
I almost lit my joint then and there, but figured “Stupid! – She will smell it! – you almost got yourself busted!”
I just entered in her password.
She made the mistake of writing it down in her address book and I found it a while back the last time I looked for weed in her room.
I popped my Bahū Bégum, Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl’s, screen and I was going to hit play on her desktop movie viewer icon when I saw that her browser history was open on the side of her web-explorer.
Curious, I looked at her history and saw that she had been taking in a steady diet of porn viewing online. Some it was straight, some girl/girl but some of it was…well a shock for me- INCEST MOVIES!
“Really?” I thought, “Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl was viewing that? Damn it!!” I spent about a half hour looking through Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl’s smut and then played the DVD in drive and saw that it was full of my plowing beautiful Musalmān chicks doggy-style, beautiful Musalmān chicks doing three-ways, and some nut-busting anal scenes, complete with one chick and her twin sister doing ass to mouth as I plowed both of their glorious Musalmān assholes!!
Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl was interested in me sexually.
But he should have told me the evidences of it too.
“Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl is crazy for you sexually, Durgesh.” Muħammad Qāsim said furiously, “She is responsible to make my son leave my house.”
“Muħammad Qāsim,” I said curtly, “Muħammad Sultān isn’t actually your son, you know. You…”
“You want to claim his fatherhood now?” Muħammad Qāsim was suddenly horrified.
Muħammad Qāsim smiled cunningly.
I watched him harshly.
“Well, are you regretting it now?”
“We Hindus believe that a Bhābhī is as pious as mother herself.”
“Yet, right from your very childhood, you are fucking the beautiful Musalmān houseladies you called Ammīs, Bājīs, sisters, Bhābhījāns, you fuck my Ammi, don’t you?’
“Your Abbū requested me to fuck your Ammī.”
I smiled bitterly.
“Muħammad Qāsim, you have thirteen elder sisters to you. Don’t you?”
“That’s not what I’m telling you, damnfool.” I said bitterly, “Your Grandmother, Bégum Al Tihārat Al Saåīd, was compelling your Abbū,
Muħammad Åbdullah, to divorce your Ammī, Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an, because she couldn’t provide her a grandson.”
“Therefore you fucked my Ammī and fathered me?” Muħammad Qāsim asked me sarcastically.
“You don’t believe it?”
“I can’t believe that an only seven years old boy could fuck my Ammī who was already the mother of my three sisters. Even if I believe that my Ammī gave birth to my eldest sister when she was sixteen years old only.”
“Why not? Because my Ammī should have been nineteen when she mothered my second sister, should have been twenty two when she mothered my third elder sister. You mean when you were only seven years old you fucked my twenty five years old Ammī and fathered me? Nonsense!”
“Your entire calculation is quite wrong, my child.” Muħammad Qāsim’s still immensely beautiful Ammī, Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an, contradicted her son suddenly.
We didn’t know when she had entered there.
“Ammījān,” Muħammad Qāsim stood up in her honor.
“Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an,” I smiled, “darling, your damnfool son, Muħammad Qāsim, thinks I didn’t father him actually.”
“Muħammad Qāsim,” Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an said, “You think I’m a cougar that loved to have sex with your young friend Durgesh to satisfy my sexual appetite.”
“In those days, our parents married their daughters when they were not even born. I was married to Muħammad Åbdullah when I was only nine years old. Your eldest sister was born when I was thirteen only.”
“I can’t believe it,” Muħammad Qāsim smiled unbelieving it.
Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an smiled sarcastically, “your second elder sister was born when I was sixteen. Your third elder sister was born when I was eighteen. Durgesh didn’t fuck me when I was twenty five. He fucked me when I was twenty years old only. At my twenty two you were born.”
Muħammad Qāsim laughed.
“How old are you now, Ammījān?”
Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an smiled.
“What do you think?”
Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an laughed.
“You are yourself fifty, Muħammad Qāsim. I couldn’t be your Ammī when I was ten years old only.”
“You mean you are Seventy Two, Ammī?” Muħammad Qāsim was wide eyed, “I can’t believe it. You look hardly Sixty only.”
“Thanks for flattering me, my boy.”
“I’m not flattering you, Ammī. Wallah, you don’t look more than Sixty anyhow.”
“Muħammad Qāsim, Durgesh is having sex with me since fifty two years. He was thirteen then and I was twenty when we consummated our first sex.”
Muħammad Qāsim was crestfallen.
“You mean Durgesh is really my father?”
“Durgesh is really your father, my child.” Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an smiled, “Most of your friends have the same father, yet the different mothers. Durgesh was already fucking most of my Musalmān ladyfriends.”*
I said curtly,
“Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm, you are teasing me.”
“Certainly not. If you feel so, you can fuck me here and now, as much as you damn please!”
“That’s what you really want.”
“So what? I’m a fully grown up Musalmān young lady of twenty eight years old already. I can have sex with anyone I damn please! Can’t I?”
“You want me to fuck you here and now.”
“Sure, if you agree with me, undress yourself and come to me. We both are adults. We can have sex legally whenever we need it.”
“You are a PhD, Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm,”
“You must behave more sophisticated.”
Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm winked at me.
“Your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund is betraying your entire sophistication. Come on. I myself invite you.”
She suddenly jumped up, came to me and undressed me quickly so fast I couldn’t even protest her,
My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was immediately in her dazzlingly beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm was sucking me desperately caring damn whether I liked it, or not.
I was dumbfounded.
I never thought Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm was so crazy to have sex with me.
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She was a little worried too.
Soon the shaking and shuddering stopped and the flow of juice reduced to a dripping.
Zubaydah Bābar attempted to stand up but her Musalmān legs were like rubber.
I grasped her under an arm and helped her turn around and sit on the back of the couch.
“How do you feel? Is that what you wanted?” I asked Zubaydah Bābar.
Zubaydah Bābar looked at me, pulled me to her and kissed me.
“That was exactly what I wanted. It was the best orgasm I ever had.”
Nishāt Nazli was still staring at her friend.
“Wow, you really liked that. I mean I really bit down hard. Didn’t it hurt?”
I answered for Zubaydah Bābar.
“Of course it hurt. Zubaydah Bābar likes a little pain with her pleasure. Don’t you, Zubaydah Bābar?”
Zubaydah Bābar nodded her head and a sheepish smile crossed her awfully stunning immensely pretty, immensely smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Musalmān face.
“I like it best when it hurts a little. I guess I’m weird.”
“I bet you like to be tied up too, and maybe some spanking or something.”
Now Zubaydah Bābar really started to blush.
“I never tried it, but it sounds like fun.” She admitted.
I helped her stand.
“Come on, Nishāt Nazli; let’s help her to my bed. She’s a little wrung out. Then we can see about her fantasies.”
Nishāt Nazli looked a little fearful.
“You’re not going to hurt me like that. Are you?”
“Not unless you want me to.” I told her as we helped Zubaydah Bābar to the bedroom. “Everybody has fantasies of some sort. Some are more mundane than others are. Some are outright weird and dangerous. Zubaydah Bābar’s are just a little rough. However, she has to be careful whom she acts them out with. The wrong person could really hurt her. She is a masochist. She likes pain. If she were to pair up with a hard-core sadist, he could really hurt her or maybe kill her if he really has a problem. Therefore, Zubaydah Bābar, promise me you won’t go indulging your fantasy with just anyone. Make sure you know them really well and preferably make sure there is a third person involved to put a stop to it if it starts to get out of hand.”
Zubaydah Bābar just nodded.
“I know it’s dangerous and I only let it go like that once before. I … I probably wouldn’t have let it happen today but I trust you. I know that Durgesh wouldn’t hurt me.” Zubaydah Bābar smiled at me.
I smiled back as we lay Zubaydah Bābar on the bed.
I crawled in beside Zubaydah Bābar and kissed her gently on the lips.
Nishāt Nazli sat on the edge of the bed and I looked at her.
“So Nishāt Nazli, what kind of fantasies do you have? What do you dream about that gets you really hot? If I can help, I will. If it’s too far out for me, then maybe we can get close.”
Nishāt Nazli blushed and looked away.
“I’ve already had most of my fantasies, like we did the other day. You know with you and Zubaydah Bābar, a three way. I also … well we’re living one now, all of us running around the house naked and a Hindu mature man chasing us around and screwing us.” Nishāt Nazli giggled.
“Hindu mature man?” Zubaydah Bābar smiled cunningly, “Have you noticed, here in Ved Nagar, it’s quite normal. Isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” Nishāt Nazli looked at Zubaydah Bābar questioningly.
“Hindus here, are enjoying marital relations and live in relationship with modern young Musalmān Beauties more, than anywhere. Haven’t you noticed it? In a recent survey, here at Ved Nagar, 90% mature Hindus are found having marital relations/live in relationships with the ultramodern PhD Musalmān Beauties aged 28 to 35, while the Hindus are mostly aged 50 and above.”
“Long live Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.” I said curtly.
Nishāt Nazli twisted herself to me.
“You mean Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has done it?”
“What do you think? It’s natural?”
“Why not?” Zubaydah Bābar said, “I asked Nasīm Muåāwiyah why she prefers you. She says she wants a man for her, thoroughly experienced, strong, capable, not a boy that is as inexperienced as she herself is.”
“You are repeating only what the young Musalmān Beauties life partners of 90% mature Hindus of Ved Nagar said in that survey.” I said bitterly.
Zubaydah Bābar and Nishāt Nazli both looked at each other and smiled.
“Don’t you agree with them?” Zubaydah Bābar asked me somewhat uncertainly.
“Well, it’s their life and it’s their decision.” I said noncommittally.
“But you don’t appreciate it, do you?”
“I think there’s another view also expressed about it.”
“Of Jamīlah Aurangzeb’s, your former live in relationship partner’s?”
“She is still the Attorney General here at Ved Nagar.” I said gravely, “Isn’t she?”
“Sure,” Bābarah Åālamgīr interfered entering there and joining us, “our Mayor is the most lenient man in the history of entire humankind. Everyone advised him to take action against the present Attorney General, Jamīlah Aurangzeb. Yet, he denied all such suggestions.”*
The visit had been quite unexpected.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb had forgotten that she had made the appointment.
She had forgotten to cancel it.
She should have canceled it after she’d promised to have dinner with the Mayor.
Now, Jamīlah Aurangzeb was trying to get it over with as quickly and gracefully as possible.
Yet, Jamīlah Aurangzeb didn’t want to hurt the man sitting opposite her.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan was a great man, as far as she knew him.
He was one of the most respected men here at Ved Nagar.
Nafīsah Salmān always tried to disgrace him either this way or that, but Durgesh had suddenly granted the request of Sarvochch Brahmarshi, to make Imām Muħammad Ħasan the executive head of Ashvinātam, the residence of the Mayor of Ved Nagar.
Nafīsah Salmān laughed on it ironically.
“Prakash succeeded ultimately in pleasing his younger most successful Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat Bhābhījān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the new President of former Saůūdī Årab. Nafīsah Salmān Bhābhījān is not as important for Sarvochch Brahmarshi now, as she was once. I’m surprised at even Durgesh surrendered to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. I never imagined it even.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“You must not be as jealous to your own daughter, Ammī, as you are now. Durgesh surrendered to me? Hahaha. Sarvochch Brahmarshi succeeded in pleasing me ultimately? Does he even need it ever?”
At another time, Jamīlah Aurangzeb could have really enjoyed talking with such a man of principles that he even sacrificed his position in Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat’s National Council.
They called it that.
In imitation of Ved Nagar’s Council?
But Ved Nagar wasn’t a country.
Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat was.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb couldn’t enjoy however it now.
Not tonight, with the heap of papers on her desk still to be read, with the long tense evening in the Ashvinātam.
Well, she was capable enough not to feel awkward facing her former live in relationship partner.
It would have been normal if only her daughter, Bābarah Åālamgīr, hadn’t exaggerated it.
She was still making it a great issue.
“It’s normal, Bābarah.” Jamīlah Aurangzeb had tried to explain it to her daughter, “I needed Durgesh once as much as you need him now. You may think it was my obsession to him. You may think I needed extraordinary sex then. Now you are yourself an adult. You can understand it now thoroughly. Why the hell are you exaggerating it?”
Bābarah Åālamgīr was furious.
“I am exaggerating it?”
“Certainly not. Durgesh is exaggerating it.”
“That you are his stepdaughter?” Jamīlah Aurangzeb smiled ironically.
“Am not I?”
“Certainly not. A stepdaughter relationship is a marital relationship, not a relationship that comes out of a live in relationship.”
“I agree with you.” Bābarah Åālamgīr smiled, “live in relationship doesn’t generate any marital relationship because live in relationship itself isn’t a marital relationship. You and Durgesh were never married. So, there isn’t any harm if I replace you myself as Durgesh’s new live in relationship partner.”
“That’s right. That’s the legal status of this relationship here in Ved Nagar.” Jamīlah Aurangzeb said.
Bābarah Åālamgīr beamed at her Ammī.
“That’s the legal opinion of the Attorney General of India?”
“Attorney General of Ved Nagar.” Jamīlah Aurangzeb smiled at her daughter, “Ved Nagar legally now somewhat enjoys the special status like Jammu and Kashmir. It has its own Attorney General. Ved Nagar is too advanced in technology that the rest of India can’t maintain same legal system. The Government of India has to allow Ved Nagar to have its own legal system and its own Attorney General, as Ved Nagar refused to separate itself from India.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr laughed.
“Ved Nagar hates separation ab initio. It wants to bring the entire infinite creations, instead, under one Federal Government with utmost possible autonomy to every member state.”*
Jamīlah Aurangzeb watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
“What do you think of your husband, Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr, Attorney General of Ved Nagar?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan asked Jamīlah Aurangzeb casually.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb, the Attorney General of Ved Nagar, watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan, scrutinizing him now.
What was he after, actually?
She smiled, casually herself.
“What do I think of my husband, Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr?”
“Sure, that was my question.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled shrewdly.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb immediately thought of the physical Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr.
No doubt, her husband was very impressive among Musalmīn with his bearded face.
Even the persons, who did not hate terrorist Musalmīn to the extent Dr. Ali Sina, his co-authors and his followers did, respected Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr very much.
Yet, the Attorney General of Ved Nagar, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, knew very well, what her husband, Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr, was actually.
She smiled ironically.
Perhaps, Imām Muħammad Ħasan was right.
Her husband, Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr, was perhaps fooling even Durgesh successfully.
Was it her own mistake?
She shouldn’t have asked him for divorce.*
Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr was a blustering, loud mouthed, braying, harsh, and almost as tall as Durgesh, with a rasping, rough, voice.
His eyes were small squinting, and gimlet in a small round head set atop a short thick neck on a brawny, strong, expanse of chest.
It was however, his exterior.
It wasn’t as important as his interior was in her opinion.
Should she confirm Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s doubts about her husband?
“Frankly,” Jamīlah Aurangzeb said, “I think Durgesh and you both know about my husband even more than me. Durgesh respects you more and his faith in you is stronger than even Durgesh’s faith in Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Nafīsah Salmān.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“That’s right. Yet you are his wife.”
“So what? Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr isn’t one of the persons who have more faith in his wife/wives than in the persons more reliable to him.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan kept smiling.
“How many wives he has?”
“Three more I think, according to Muslim Personal Law.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
“Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr obeys Muslim Personal Law?”
Jamīlah Aurangzeb watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan prudently.
“He has to, if he wants to keep Muslim opinion with him.”
“It isn’t any Islamic country.”
Jamīlah Aurangzeb retorted.
“Ved Nagar is worse in some matters.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t believe Jamīlah Aurangzeb.
“Ved Nagar is worse in some matters?”
“Sure, why are you so surprised?”
“They say Ved Nagar is the best place to live at, for Musalmān Beauties.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled shrewdly.
“They are right. Yet, even the best place to live at, for us Musalmān Beauties, is being hounded by the shrewdest Pseudo Musalmīn now.” Jamīlah Aurangzeb retorted once more.
“You mean you Musalmān Beauties aren’t safe from Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists even here at Ved Nagar?”
Jamīlah Aurangzeb watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
“Ved Nagar has an utmost dangerous policy.”
“And what’s that, if I may ask the Attorney General of Ved Nagar?”
Jamīlah Aurangzeb again watched him scrutinizing.
“Ved Nagar believes in ‘Imām Nārīm Sukr’té dadhāt’ and ‘Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat’.”
“And it’s dangerous?”
“Sure it is.” Jamīlah Aurangzeb, the Attorney General of Ved Nagar, said academically, “Ved Nagar is an ideal state established by Durgesh, Prakāsh, Ved Prakāsh and other Vedic Monotheist Hindus…”
“I don’t think so.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb, the Attorney General of Ved Nagar, looked at him quite surprised.
“You don’t think so?”
“No. For your kind information, Jamīlah Aurangzeb, the Attorney General of Ved Nagar, the Musalmān Beauties having marital/Sexual/Love/live in relationships with the Hindus are more in numbers than Hindus even that established Ved Nagar. Moreover, I am also one of the persons that are responsible for establishment of Ved Nagar.”*
Jamīlah Aurangzeb was dumbfounded.
She watched Imām Muħammad Ħasan incredulously.
“Youuuuuuuuuuuuuu? You are one of the persons that found Ved Nagar?”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan watched Jamīlah Aurangzeb shrewdly.
“Why are you so surprised?”
“I thought you are a communal Musalmān.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“If you are a communal Musalmān, why the hell you were one of the persons that found Ved Nagar?”
“Either you aren’t a communal Musalmān or you aren’t one of the persons that found Ved Nagar.”*
I looked at the pile of paperwork on my desk and rubbed at my eyes.
It had been a really long day, and only midway through what was bound to be a long week.
It had begun with my friend Aħmad Åbdullāh’s death two days ago, and since then the Island had been a hive of activity getting things prepared.
In a couple of days Aħmad Åbdullāh’s children would arrive on the Island, having just found out that they were triplets given up for adoption, and they’d be meeting here for the very first time.
On top of that, I had a burial to organise for Aħmad Åbdullāh on the Island.
Add in organising supplies and planning for every contingency, and it was no wonder I felt exhausted somewhat.
It was two in the morning and high time I had some stress relief.
I got up from my desk and moved to the door of my office, part of my home on the Island upstairs from the clinic, and headed for the exit, moving quietly down the stairs, as was my habit.
Once outside, I smiled.
I’d always loved the cool breeze that caressed the Island through the night.
I turned left and took the path down to the beach, taking a right between two large bushes on the narrow path the kitchen staff used to bring supplies into the kitchens.
A couple of turns and I was moving around the edge of the building where the Island’s food was prepared and stored, unstaffed at this time of night.
I knew if anyone spotted me s/he’d just assume I was going for my habitual late night snack, but I knew different.
I bypassed the main doors to the kitchen and entered the small courtyard that served the dual purpose of somewhere to store the trash and somewhere the chefs and porters could sneak out to for a smoke.
Casually I glanced around.
Seeing no one, I slipped over to the backdoor of the pastry kitchen and entered a code in the keypad, a different code from the one normally used to open the door.
A quiet bump sounded next to one of the bins and I moved to the corner, reached down and pulled the handle that was now protruding from the flagstoned yard.
A small hatch appeared with a ladder heading down, barely visible in the moonlight.
I quickly slid myself into the narrow passage and closed the hidden hatch above me, seeing the dim lights illuminating the twenty-three rungs below me.
Reaching the bottom, I turned around and punched another code into the wall and the small box beside it opened.
I pressed my hand to the small screen inside the box and the door, beside me, swung open.
I smiled in anticipation.
I had a lot of catching up to do.
I entered the saferoom, or as I thought of it, the ‘Bunker’ where I could retreat to if the Island was ever attacked.
I ignored the open plan living area and kitchen and moved straight to the door on my left, a control room where I could make contact with the outside world if need be, but my focus wasn’t on the emergency facilities.
I moved straight to the console housing the covert CCTV system that Aħmad Åbdullāh had painstakingly built in secret over the last fifteen years.
My friend’s words came back to me, as they always did when he looked at the setup.
“There’s no point in being trapped in here. Much better to see what’s going on outside. Then you retain an advantage the other side doesn’t even know about. Information is power.”
I smiled and moved to the large leather desk chair facing the bank of fifteen screens.
Three large screens, a dozen smaller, all assigned letters from A to O.
The one hundred and thirty eight cameras hidden around the Island were numbered, making the system incredibly simple to operate.
Simply type in the letter for the screen, then the camera number, hit enter and that’s what you saw.
The whole system was set up on a motion-activation principle, immediately discarding data that had nothing happening and that suited my purposes perfectly.
I settled my fingers on the keyboard, typed A68 and hit Enter.
The first of the three large screens flickered into view, a camera situated in the bedroom of Aħmad Åbdullāh’s favourite PA, Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad.
She was one of my favourites too, a hot, toned Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān blonde with a bundle of intelligence and determination.
It wasn’t her intellect that interested me at present though, as I watched the live feed from her vacant bedroom.
My memory provided me hundreds of images of her sleeping in that very bed.
I felt the familiar stirring in my Hindu groin and smiled.
Time to move the recording back.
My fingers found the small dial next to the keyboard, punched in the camera number and then rotated it back.
The simple system allowed me to review all recorded footage from that particular camera and I was viewing it in reverse.
A couple of chambermaids darted around briefly at high speed, and then the footage caught up to Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad undressing, and then sleeping.
The footage continued in reverse at high speed, skipping past hours of her lying still.
She’d been asleep for five hours or so when I saw her leap out of bed, naked, and grab a towel, then disappearing backwards into the bathroom.
I reset the dial, my left hand coming to rest on my belt, and as the footage began to play on the screen, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan unfastened my belt and trousers.
She had joined me in the meantime.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad appeared from the bathroom, her skin flushed from the shower, wrapped in a fluffy white towel.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan pulled down my fly and slid her hand in my trousers.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad opened her towel.
I saw her side on as she lifted the towel, her body taught and firm, her breasts pert and round.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan slipped her hand around my Uncut Hindu Cock, slowly stroking me as I watched Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad dry herself.
She moved too quickly for me though, drying herself rapidly then slipping under the sheet on her bed, settling down to go to sleep.
I frowned and punched in B69, bringing up the footage from the en-suite bathroom in Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad’s room.
I punched 69 in next to the dial and rolled it back, seeing her in a high-speed blur in the shower, moving it back to play as soon as the maid appeared who’d cleaned the bathroom earlier.
While Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan stroked me in anticipation, the maid finished her work, the lighting changed and Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad appeared.
Dressed only in a black thong, she walked up to the sink, her gorgeous Musalmān breasts on display.
she brushed her teeth.
I zoomed the camera in on her ever-erect Musalmān breasts.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was stroking my Uncut Hindu Cock as I watched them jiggle back and forth with every motion of her arm.
“Come on, you hot Musalmān Sex goddess,” I muttered. “Get in the damn shower.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled and squeezed my Uncut Hindu Cock eloquently.
The teeth brushing continued for another minute.
Then Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad disappeared off screen.
I zoomed the view back out, seeing her step into the shower cubicle.
The water began immediately and I slowed the footage down as she stepped out the cubicle to remove her thong.
In slow motion, Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad inserted her thumbs in her waistband and bent over, sliding the black material down her hips, thighs and finally to the floor, and with a casual flick of her foot, the thong ended up back in the bedroom.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s grip tightened on my Uncut Hindu Cock.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad always did this before she went in the shower.
I zoomed in a little closer.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad stood up straight and stretched, her arms rising high above her head, her ever-erect Musalmān breasts jutting out.
I groaned, squeezing my lips in anticipation of what came next.
Her right hand slid down over her taught, flat stomach, sliding down over her shaved skin until her middle finger made contact with her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clitoris.
“Go on, you fucking Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī hot Musalmān Sex goddess,” I muttered as I watched.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed and took my Uncut Hindu Penis into her extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī mouth.
She started to suck me devotedly.
Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad’s middle finger rubbed her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit up and down a couple of times, then in slow-motion, she moved it down her slit, rubbed up and down once, then plunged her middle finger deep inside her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Fuck that extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, you extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ever hottest sex goddess,” I growled.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan whispered,
“Fuck me, imagine you are fucking the bitch Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad, instead of me.”
“Why the imagination? You are far more beautiful than Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad.”
“Thank you.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan put her palm on my chest and pushed me back gently.
I lay on my back now.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan immediately straddled on my standing perpendicular Uncut Hindu Cock.
It disappeared into Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young Cunt, gradually, entirely ultimately.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me.
“Happy, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties?”
“Sure, my dear ever young Musalmān lady.” I myself returned her wink lewdly, “What the hell more my Uncut Hindu Cock demands after all?”
“A Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt around it.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed suggestively.
I pulled her on me and kissed vehemently.
We both were nude now entirely.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was a nudist feminist.
To meet her on her own ground, I had to be myself a nudist manist, nothing less.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wanted wildest animal sex.
She was a strict One Man Woman.
It was natural that I had to provide her the wildest animal sex she loved very much.
Well, contrary to the general outlook, I never thought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was wrong in her desire however.
Her body needed it.
She was rightfully getting it from me.
It was her fundamental woman right on her man.
It was her fundamental human right on her man.
There wasn’t anything wrong in it.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah took out her mobile.
Now Durgesh is needed.
Now Durgesh is needed.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is One Man Woman.
She had gone to the extent to seduce Durgesh herself.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled.
Durgesh was the man who was never accepted as any woman’s stepson, stepbrother or stepfather.
No woman was crazy enough to accept such a platonic relationship with Durgesh ever.
Yet, it was the cold and hard fact that Durgesh never succeeded in it.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled once more ironically.
But it was proved ultimately that even they were not faithful to their ardent Musalmān husbands.
Perhaps Durgesh’s own Ammī Ħuzūr was the only woman.
She was Durgesh’s real Ammī.
“Bājī,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah complained, “the great Kħadījah Muħammad can never be a history only, for Durgesh, ever. You are the woman Durgesh loved to marry with. Saiyadah Fātimah PhD Bājī is his wife only because Durgesh’s Pitr’shrī wanted it.”
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
“I have complaint against Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself.”
Kħadījah Muħammad laughed.
“Nonsense, Bājī. don’t tell me you also believe it.”*
It felt strange going back to the beginning after everything that’s happened since.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was such a different person now than Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was back then.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was such a goody-goody!
She remembered really thinking that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah loved Al Fātimah Al Zohrah.
I told her so!
I was Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s first real boyfriend.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was 18 years old, a senior in University, but Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was ready to believe anything.
I looked deep into Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s eyes and told Al Fātimah Al Zohrah that I would never leave her.
She sighed wistfully and thought Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was in Heaven.
Little did she know that he just wanted to cop a feel; not that it bugged her or anything, but when things looked like they were going to get purely physical, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah wanted to see how far Ålī ibn Abī Tālib would go for her first?
To be honest, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was not sure if Al Fātimah Al Zohrah would have let him or not.
However Ålī ibn Abī Tālib wouldn’t have been Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s first.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’d let one of the neighboring Hindus, me, up at the cottage the previous summer use and abuse her for a few weeks.
But Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was still a real prick-tease when Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was with me.
Now that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah thinks of it, though, she probably would have at least given me a hand-job if I had only asked for it.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was 5’8″, 120 lbs., and although Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was already 18 years old she know for a fact that she looked quite young for Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s age.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah also knew that she’d certainly turned some heads.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was a petite little hottie.
Most Hindus would do Al Fātimah Al Zohrah without a second thought.
They liked Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s face; high cheekbones, blue eyes, and blonde hair tied back in a bouncy ponytail.
And Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s friend Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ said that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had what she called ” Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān blowjob lips”—nice full ones, made extra sensuous by the glistening cherry-red lipstick Al Fātimah Al Zohrah often wore.
In University one would have thought of Al Fātimah Al Zohrah as the “all-Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girl”.
No one—no one—would have thought that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah would become the University Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Sex goddess.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah used to wear long—long—skirts.
Big, baggy blouses and sometimes—when Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was feeling particularly studious—thick horned-rimmed glasses.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was pretty back then, don’t get her wrong.
This isn’t some “She’s So Fine” ugly-duckling-becomes-a-swan story.
No, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was hot even with all that extra clothing on.
But things certainly got a bit more interesting when Al Fātimah Al Zohrah decided to show Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s self off a bit.
The week after Ålī ibn Abī Tālib broke up with Al Fātimah Al Zohrah, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was miserable.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had never been dumped before.
It happened on a Monday morning and all through the week Al Fātimah Al Zohrah just felt depressed.
By Friday the depression had begun to fade and Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was just feeling angry.
Who the hell did he think Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was?
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah could have given the snotty little bastard so much, but because Al Fātimah Al Zohrah wouldn’t shove his cut Musalmān nūnī in Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s mouth the moment he asked for it, he decided Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was no good?
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah decided that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah would make a real effort to show him exactly what he had given up.
The Friday after he had broken up with Al Fātimah Al Zohrah she stayed late at University, working in the library on a paper.
Outside, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah could hear the debate team doing squats, but inside the University was almost completely deserted.
By 5:00, when the library finally kicked her out, the halls were dark and the field outside was quiet.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah went to Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s locker, on the second floor, across from the boys’ locker room.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah could still hear the shower running and one or two voices coming from within, so she knew that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was not the last one in the University.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah opened Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s locker and slowly began putting her books away.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s mind was still racing and Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was still fuming at the way Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had been treated earlier in the week.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was thinking about the way in which Al Fātimah Al Zohrah would really show Ålī ibn Abī Tālib how big a mistake he had made, when fate provided Al Fātimah Al Zohrah with a perfect chance.
All of the sudden Al Fātimah Al Zohrah heard a high-pitched laugh from within the locker room.
The door slammed open and Al Fātimah Al Zohrah heard a loud “thwack!” split the air.
Clutching a loose towel up against his groin area, Durgesh crashed into the hallway, the tip of another wet, rolled-up towel cracking like a whip behind me.
I was a nice guy.
The University had invited me to deliver some lectures on perfect scientific life today.
I had been Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s lab instructor in Chemistry class the previous semester.
Chemistry was not my subject even in graduation.
I was a Pure Mathematics-Applied Mathematics-Physics student even in my graduation.
Yet, I was requested to instruct them in Chemistry too with the help of their lady Chemistry Professor.
There was a rumor that their lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, had her clandestine sexual relations with me, to the extent that their lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, had even cuckolded her otherwise very respected husband, Professor Åbdul Raħmān Hāshmī.
“So what? He can’t fuck our lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, too, as he fucks my Ammī?” Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ chuckled.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was startled.
She couldn’t imagine a girl talking of her own real Ammī in such a sexy manner.
“Watch your language, Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ.” At length, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah said ultimately.
Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ giggled.
“What’s wrong with my language?”
“Try to say anything about your Ammī in somewhat more descent words.”
“Sālī, every woman fucks a man.” Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ laughed, “That’s how we come into this world. My Ammī fucked my Abbū and gave birth to me. Similarly your Ammī fucked your Abbū and gave birth to you.”
“And our lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, fucked Durgesh and gave birth to Shubhésh?”
“Tell me another reason why she named her son Shubhésh? Isn’t Shubhésh a Hindu name?”
“You want to say Shubhésh is our lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s son from Durgesh?”
“Everyone knows it, you idiot.”*
The raspy Hindu male voice on the other end told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
“I’m coming for you…”
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hung up the phone.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was getting used to the prank calls by this time since they had been happening for at least a month or longer.
Nothing ever came of it.
Some nights Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t even get the calls.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, wasn’t concerned either.
He just figured it was Hindu teens making prank calls.
Unfortunately neither of them knew at the time how wrong they were.
Another month had passed another month of more prank calls, only they were getting worse.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was starting to get frightened.
When Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah about his upcoming business trip Kħadījah Al Tāhirah begged him to either take her with him or not to go at all.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah. “You are going to be fine.”
“But the calls.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah stammered.
“It’s just a bunch of kids trying to scare you. Nothing more. Now will you be grown up about this? Allah, yā Allah! My God, woman, you are 26 years old plenty old enough to stay home a few days by yourself.”
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah just looked at him.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah just wished she could be as calm about it as he was.
A few days later Kħadījah Al Tāhirah asked Muħammad once again to take her with him as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah helped him pack.
“We’ve been over this!!” Muħammad shouted at Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.” Sometimes I feel like I am babysitting a kid instead of married to a grown woman.”
Quietly Kħadījah Al Tāhirah left the bedroom and let him finish packing.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah couldn’t shake the fear growing inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
If anything Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hated being scared the most.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was angry at herself for feeling this way and angry at Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, for not giving a damn.
That night they went to bed both of them their own sides and neither of them was touching the other one.
But that seemed to be the way it went for them anymore.
The alarm went off at 5:30 am.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah opened her eyes to watch as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband dressed.
Even if they were having problems Kħadījah Al Tāhirah still found him very unconcerned.
“Would you like me to make you breakfast before you leave?”
“Just go back to bed. I can get something on the way.”
“I really don’t mind.”
“I said no!”
‘Sad that after only two years of marriage they were at this point.’
Maybe when he gets back they can go to marriage counselling.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah said to herself as she fell back asleep.
Waking up later Kħadījah Al Tāhirah noticed he had left no note of goodbye and that Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t even get a kiss before he left.
“Oh well maybe he’ll miss me and when he gets home we’ll have a great night of sex.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah said with a laugh to the empty house.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t bother to dress.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t see the use.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was home alone and lived in a nice neighborhood.
It was daylight and Kħadījah Al Tāhirah doubted if anyone could see inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s house.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was wrong.
Soon after 10:30 am the calls started coming.
At first they were just the same old calls as before.
But soon they changed and became much more terrifying.
It seemed they came every twenty minutes or so.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was getting angry by the time the calls had continued throughout the day and most of the night.
“Just stop fucking calling me you piece of shit! Why don’t you just go to hell!!!!!”
“Oh I plan on it, but I am going to take you with me.”
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hung up again and stared at the phone as it rang as soon as it was on the receiver.
“Leave me ALONE!!” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah yelled.
“We can’t now. Not after watching your husband leave this morning, KĦADĪJAH AL TĀHIRAH, JĀNUM! We know you are home all by yourself.” He laughed into the phone,” And we’ve loved the show you’ve been putting on all day for us, you little Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut!!”
Panicked now, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah ripped the phone from the wall.
Shaking Kħadījah Al Tāhirah walked to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s bedroom and it was then that Kħadījah Al Tāhirah noticed Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s bedroom window was opened.
She knew Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t open it because Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was running the A/C.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah thought about getting out of the house right then, but quickly realized Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was still naked and ran to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s closet for some clothes.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah should’ve just run outside nude, because when Kħadījah Al Tāhirah opened the closet door Kħadījah Al Tāhirah saw him.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt a hard blow to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s head then nothing…..
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” The voice called to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah struggled and finally got her eyes opened.
“Did you have a nice nap?”
She tried to move her arms but they were held tight by ropes, as were Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s feet.
“Please just let me go.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah begged.
“Not until we’re done with you.”
At the mention of the word WE’RE Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started to panic and pull against the rope.
When Kħadījah Al Tāhirah looked around Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s bedroom Kħadījah Al Tāhirah seen them.
There were six of them.
All of them seemed ready with their pants off and Uncut Hindu Cocks in hand.
None of their Uncut Hindu Cocks seemed to be under seven inches the biggest at least had to ten inches and three inches thick.
She got even more afraid.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, was quite small.
Even fully erect MAYBE two inches only.
They were going to kill Kħadījah Al Tāhirah with their Uncut Hindu Pricks I kept thinking to herself.
“See we could’ve already had our fun with you. Only we wanted to wait until you were awake to be able to see, hear and feel what we are going to do to you. Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, I assure you, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum, we won’t leave one hole untouched by our Uncut Hindu Cock. We are going to rape your extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy first. When that begins to stretch out and get too filled with our Hindu cum, we are going to fuck your Musalmān asshole too. Ever had it in your asshole, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum?”
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah shook her head, “No”.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah wouldn’t let Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, fuck her there.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah had a Hindu boyfriend back in high school who tried it.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hated it.
It hurt so bad Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started crying and told him to pull it out after only the head was inside.
So needless to say hearing them tell Kħadījah Al Tāhirah they were going to fuck Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān asshole and that there was nothing Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could do to stop it this time.
It scared Kħadījah Al Tāhirah worse than them raping Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Never. I would never forget her beautiful, sexy Musalmān mouth. Before tonight is over, you will have six Uncut Hindu Cocks in every Musalmān hole you have at least once. But knowing my group, probably you would have them a lot more than once.”
The group laughed.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started crying even louder.
He bent down and took one of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s nipples in his mouth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was ashamed to admit that if Kħadījah Al Tāhirah closed her eyes and imagined he was someone else it felt really good.
But then he bit down hard on it.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah screamed and Rām Mohan laughed.
“You didn’t think this was going to be gentle, did you??” Rām Mohan laughed a vicious laugh as he started kneading Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s breasts hard and pinching the nipples even harder.
He took his Uncut Hindu Lund and rubbed it on Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s left tit leaving a trail of precum all over Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s nipple.
“Yeah baby we are gonna have fun with you. A lot of fun.” Rām Mohan then got up on the bed with Kħadījah Al Tāhirah and positioned himself between Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful bare Musalmān legs.
He felt Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Oh no we can’t have fun with a dry extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy. Can we, Hindus??”
A chorus of “No’s” came from all the Hindus.
Rām Mohan started to open Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy lips with his fingers and stared at Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān clit.
Finding Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy hole he started to finger fuck her with first two fingers, then moved up to three.
The combination of him rubbing and pinching and even biting on Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s clit and finger fucking her was making Kħadījah Al Tāhirah wet.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel the wetness seep out from between his fingers.
“That’s a good little Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum.” Rām Mohan told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was horrified that he was able to make her wet!
Rām Mohan repositioned himself back between Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s legs and Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel him starting to push inside her with his Uncut Hindu Lund head.
“You ready for some real major Hindu penetration, baby?”
“No please don’t do this.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s plea fell on deaf ears as Rām Mohan rammed his Uncut Hindu Lund to the hilt inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah screamed.
His Uncut Hindu Lund was so much bigger than Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband; Muħammad’s that his Uncut Hindu Lund hurt!
Rām Mohan pounded in and out of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy several times.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was screaming so loud that one of his buddies had to cover Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth.
“Yeah Whore, how does this feel?? Either your husband is really small or he doesn’t fuck you very often because your extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy is tight as hell!”
The other Hindu men started stroking on their Uncut Hindu Lunds.
All of them were getting more turned on by the sight of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah spread on the bed with this Hindu man’s Uncut Hindu Lund ramming inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Please get out of me!!” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah tried to beg but with the hand over Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth it just sounded mumbled.
“Shut her up, Muħammad.” Ram Mohan, who Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could tell was their leader, told the man who was covering Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah watched an evil smile spread across his face as he straddled Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s chest.
So, a Musalmān is also with them?
What an irony.
He was also named Muħammad, as her Musalmān husband was.
“Here, Bitch.” Muħammad held his friend, Shiv Shankar’s, Uncut Hindu Lund to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s now firmly closed mouth.
A strong punch to the side of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s face made her cry out in pain and Muħammad used that opportunity to slide his friend, Shiv Shankar’s, Uncut Hindu Lund deep in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Musalmān mouth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah had never had two Uncut Hindu Lunds inside her simultaneously.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started to feel like a cheap Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum.
Muħammad continued to rape Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s face with Shiv Shankar’s Uncut Hindu Lund as Muħammad raped Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy with a vengeance.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was having trouble breathing between Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s grunts and the Uncut Hindu Lund that was now wedged deep in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s throat.
After a time of them tag teaming her, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started to feel Rām Mohan’s balls tighten as they hit Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful gorgeous Musalmān ass.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knew Rām Mohan was close to cumming.
Since Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad was Musalmān he didn’t believe in birth control and Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started trying to beg him not to cum inside her.
But with the huge Uncut Hindu Lund inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth, it just sounded like more grunts.
After a few more strokes Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel Rām Mohan’s Hindu seed pouring into Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s battered extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel the Hindu warmth fill her.
Not long after his Uncut Hindu Lund shrank up and fell out of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, Shiv Shankar started filling Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth with his Hindu cum too.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah had no choice but to shallow his Hindu spunk since his Uncut Hindu Lund was still deep in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth.
It was either swallow it or choke.
“Nice ride baby.” Rām Mohan was saying to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah as he wiped his Uncut Hindu Lund on Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s asshole and squeezing his penis so that the last bit of his Hindu cum was lubricating the Musalmān hole.
Then Kħadījah Al Tāhirah saw three more of his Hindu men advanced towards the bed.
One of them, Prabhu Dayāl, untied Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s feet and turned her over.
“Up on all fours, Bitch.” Prabhu Dayāl told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hesitated and was rewarded with another blow to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s face from the man standing closest to her.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah lifted her lower body up as far as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could since there were still roped tying down Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s hands.
But that was soon to be corrected.
Once Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s hands were free from one of the ropes, one man got under Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s body and lined his Uncut Hindu Lund up with Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy hole.
With one hard upward thrust Prabhu Dayāl was inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
She grunted as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt Prabhu Dayāl’s big Uncut Hindu Lund fill Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Once again Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was filled both in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy and mouth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel Shiv Shankar rubbing something on Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s asshole.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started trying to move away as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt his Uncut Hindu Lund tearing open Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s gorgeous Musalmān ass.
The burning pain Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān ass obliterated the pain Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy and throat.
At once Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knew this was the owner of the ten inch Uncut Hindu Lund.
“I gotta break you in, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum. How do you like being fucked like the bitch you are?” Shiv Shankar laughed.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah controlled herself.
She stopped the tears from running down her face.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s controlled her nose also from beginning to run as it always did whenever Kħadījah Al Tāhirah cried making it even harder to breathe.
It was a sheer foolishness to accept before these sex obsessed Hindus that she was being humiliated and disgraced.
Let them understand they were actually serving her, instead of humiliating her.
It was the only way to win over the devils.
They are prepared for Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s noncooperation.
Why not cooperate with them?
Her noncooperation with them can’t change the facts even a bit.
The fact is now Kħadījah Al Tāhirah is not a One Man Woman anymore.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah is now their woman whether she liked it or not.
She can’t undo what has been done.
So, why not enjoy it now?
But does it make any difference now?
She has recognized now all the six Hindu scoundrels.
They belong to Shiv Senā.
But actually Shiv Shankar Bachhalyā is a Congressman.
He has put his five men in Shiv Senā and BJP.
She knew it very well.
So, these are the five men Shiv Shankar Bachhalyā has in Shiv Senā and BJP?
Before long Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s body was covered in sweat and Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was making sounds Kħadījah Al Tāhirah had never made before.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel him deep deep in her bowels.
The burning intense pain almost made her pass out again, but the man whose Uncut Hindu Lund was in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth slapped her across Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s face.
“None of that now, baby. I need this Uncut Hindu Lund sucked….Dry!!” Prabhu Dayāl told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
The three fucked her for what seemed an eternity.
Finally the one in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy started to cum and watching this the one in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth soon followed.
He finally, after another ten hours at least, Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Ten long hours? Kħadījah Al Tāhirah couldn’t believe herself she was being fucked now for ten hours continuously nonstop by these Hindu scoundrels.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt him then pull out.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah sighed a relief when he was finally out of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān asshole completely.
Throughout the rest of the night and most of the early morning hours too, not one of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān holes was that wasn’t filled by an Uncut Hindu Lund.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel the Hindu cum flowing out of her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy like a sink faucet and even Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s distended and open Musalmān asshole couldn’t hold the Hindu cum in, as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt it continuously flowing down Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s legs.
The Hindu men took pictures and even made a movie of her while after all this torment Kħadījah Al Tāhirah actually had an orgasm.
They threatened to show them to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, if Kħadījah Al Tāhirah ever said anything.
They don’t have to worry Kħadījah Al Tāhirah never would.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah never could after Kħadījah Al Tāhirah cummed for these savage Hindu men as many times as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could.
After this experience, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knew now that she was a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum, for these six powerful Hindus.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah belong to these Hindu men that visit her regularly now when Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, is out of town or even sometimes while he’s at work.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah can’t even honestly call it rape anymore.
It has turned now into something Kħadījah Al Tāhirah crave.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knows she needs help.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knows that it isn’t right.
But it’s the truth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s own dark truth.
To make it worse as if it could get worse, now whenever Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, fucks her, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah have to closes her eyes and pretends she is being gang raped by the group of Hindu men who still visits her often.
And only then can Kħadījah Al Tāhirah cum for Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad.
Not without it.*
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was on the debate team, but was not a mindless athlete.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was pretty smart, actually, and although Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was somewhat popular I didn’t let it get to my head.
The moment I saw her, I fumbled into the hallway, gave a cute little smile, and promptly dropped my towel.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was startled about the incredible situation Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had just been placed in.
Here Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was, newly single, and one of the hottest guys in the University stood before her, naked as the day Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was born.
I winked at her softly before Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s eyes travelled from my, down the length of my torso before they came to rest on the long, thick Hindu mass that was erect now between my legs.
In one moment Al Fātimah Al Zohrah recovered.
“Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Durgesh,” Al Fātimah Al Zohrah whimpered softly. “You’re erect like a rhinoceros.” Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had meant it to sound like a joke, but it only sounded as how she really felt—in total awe.
I stared back in self pride for a few seconds, before my face erupted into an enormous grin.
“Yo, Shankar!” I called over my shoulder. “Come out here and look what I got us!”
My words sent a shiver through Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s spine.
There was something proprietary, something dangerous about them.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah didn’t know Shankar, the leaner boy who appeared behind me with the twisted-up towel swung over my shoulder and not a stitch anywhere else on my body.
But he looked familiar; Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was sure Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had seen him around somewhere.
His short buzz cut was unmistakable and was a sharp contrast to my hair.
But my Uncut Hindu Lund!
Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Måshā Allah Subħān Allah my Uncut Hindu Lund!
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah couldn’t stop staring at it, and I caught it on pretty fast.
“Whatcha doing here so late, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah?” I asked, establishing eye contact with Al Fātimah Al Zohrah. I started to walk forward. “A girl could get into a lot of trouble alone here.”
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah decided to play along.
“Oh I know,” she said, feigning innocence. “I hadn’t been the smartest tonight. Why, do you think there might be some
sort of trouble?”*
“Isn’t it a fact?” Dr. Vishñu Dév Mahāmr’tyunjaý was concerned now somewhat.
“Dr. Vishñu Dév Mahāmr’tyunjaý,” Brahmdév Sharmā said to him curtly, “Mahéshvar is a Bachhalyā. Don’t forget Musalmān Beauties were always after Bachhalyās. The entire human history stands to evidence for it.”
Nāzimah Yåqūb smiled.
“Nāzimah Yåqūb,” Dr. Vishñu Dév Mahāmr’tyunjaý smiled too, “You are forgetting the fact that Mahéshvar Bachhalyā is actually married to Brahmdév Sharmā’s sisters, Vipr Mohinī Sharmā, Brahm Mahādévī Sharmā and Brahmvijayā Sharmā.”
“All the three of them?” Nāzimah Yåqūb watched them with a smirk on her extremely beautiful face.
“Well,” Dr. Vishñu Dév Mahāmr’tyunjaý adjusted his body in a different manner on the sofa chair, “Vipr Mohinī Sharmā is actually Mahéshvar Bachhalyā’s duly married wife. But both Brahm Mahādévī Sharmā and Brahmvijayā Sharmā are also his Live in Relationship Partners. You know it very well.”
Nāzimah Yåqūb laughed.
Brahmdév Sharmā felt himself tremendously humiliated.
His wife Jāhnavī Dīxit had demanded Durgesh from him.
Jāhnavī Dīxit smiled.
“Lord Vishñu were also Vr’ndā’s and Tulsī’s nandoī.” Jāhnavī Dīxit winked at her Brāhmañ husband, “yet, he fucked both Vr’ndā and Tulsī. Didn’t he?”
Brahmdév Sharmā looked at his beautiful wife helplessly.
“Jāhnavī Dīxit, am I not enough for you?”
“You are crazy.”
“Neverrrrrrrrrrrrrr.” Brahmdév Sharmā shouted, “Sālī, you are a Brahmkanyā. Never forget it.”
“How foolish and stupid you Brāhmañs are, my dear Brāhmañ husband.” Jāhnavī Dīxit laughed ironically, “You allow Musalmān Beauties to suck you, but not your own Brāhmañ wives. You Brāhmañs are also sick of your religion as the Musalmīn are.”
“Shut up! You bitch.”
Muħammad Yåqūb entered there.
“Hello everybody, Nāzimah, some Kħadījah Al Tāhirah wants to see you.”
Nāzimah Yåqūb smiled at her husband.
“Don’t you know her?”
“I know so many Kħadījah Al Tāhirahs. I don’t know who this one is out of them.”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam