Ved Nagar: 49
Posted: March 16, 2013 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim, Amīnah Zahīr, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, HLMCIC, Imrān Waħīd, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad bin Qāsim, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Pārvatī Pāŧhak, Rukħsānah Aslam, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, Sidrah Aħmad, Sophisticated Positive adult sex 2 CommentsVolume 2
Chapter 49
Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan
Durgesh Amīnah Zahīr
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand
Durgesh Pārvatī Pāŧhak
Amīnah Zahīr watched Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand gravely.
“I appreciate your manly vigor, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.”
“Thank you, Umm Al Åālmīn.”
“You are watching my live in relationship with Durgesh yourself personally, yet you are accusing me so bravely.”
“Durgesh never approved of the Cuckold Your Musalmān husband movement of Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself. ” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled sophisticatedly, “Did he?”
“What do you mean?”
“Durgesh never approved of the ‘Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club’ movement of Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan too. ” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled sophisticatedly again, “Did he?”
Amīnah Zahīr laughed.
“Naåīmah Bājī, he thinks Durgesh is right and you are wrong.”
“That’s right,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled triumphantly, “Durgesh Jījū and Naåīmah Bājī love each other and they are husband and wife now, despite their thirty two years age difference. Naåīmah Bājī is furious to Musalmān terrorists, criminal/criminal minded Musalmīn. She wants them Cuckolds and humiliated immensely until they aren’t True Musalmīn. Durgesh Jījū hates such an attitude even to the Musalmān terrorists, criminal/criminal minded Musalmīn.”
“And you think Durgesh is right and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī is wrong?” Amīnah Zahīr watched Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand scornfully.
“Is there anything wrong in it?” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled patronizingly.
Amīnah Zahīr blurted.
“You are right, Naåīmah Bājī. You are always right. Even Hindus are not with us.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled serenely.
“Control yourself, Amīnah Zahīr. Despite it, we are using Hindus successfully to establish our Dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. Aren’t we?”*
In previous years the exceptionally attractive ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives had tanned topless, however this year, Rukħsānah Aslam felt odd, being the only wife there, so she left the top on.
Imrān Waħīd and I were talking.
Imrān Waħīd was drinking beer in the boat’s cockpit, while I was giving him company with drinking juice.
We had been friends for over fifteen years.
Our wives had been college roommates and were also close friends.
I was especially watchful as my friend’s extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān wife undid her top to keep from getting tan lines on her back.
Since Rukħsānah Aslam was lying with her head toward the cockpit, I enjoyed talking to her because she had to raise her head slightly to answer and usually showed some cleavage.
On one occasion, when she raised up a little higher than necessary, I thought I saw a nipple.
I was already enjoying the trip.
It was early September.
We were making our annual sail from North Carolina to the Bahamas, where we would leave the boat for the winter.
Usually there were four of us, but this year, due to a work related issue, my ‘wife’, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, was not able to come with us.
Rukħsānah Aslam felt a relief when she heard Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wasn’t accompanying us this time.
Despite the fact that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was her childhood friend, Rukħsānah Aslam always hated Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s ever-dominant nature.
Ever-dominant nature?
Really?
Wasn’t it a fact that Rukħsānah Aslam was actually jealous of her miraculously utmost successful childhood friend, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?*
Rukħsānah Aslam must be at least sincere to herself.
Shouldn’t she?
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never hid the fact from anyone that she loved Durgesh madly despite I was thirty-two years older than Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Rukħsānah Aslam never wanted to be one of my women despite my immense success in almost every field.
Rukħsānah Aslam hated Hindus.
“If you keep on your friendship with that immensely dirty sex maniac Hindu multi zillionaire, Durgesh, Imrān Waħīd, you would soon find your every beautiful Musalmān houselady is being fucked by him, including me too.”
“Nonsense, Rukħsānah Aslam. Durgesh is the ever best friend we Musalmīn do have.” Imrān Waħīd was immensely angry with his wife, “Stop being jealous to your childhood friend Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. She offered Durgesh to you too, but it was you…”
“I hate that Hindu sex maniac.” Rukħsānah Aslam flared at her extremely damn fool Musalmān husband.
Imrān Waħīd smiled.
“Well, your sisters, your cousins, your Bhābhījāns and even your friends love my immensely successful Hindu friend, Durgesh. Don’t they?”
“They are crazy for his money.” Rukħsānah Aslam said scornfully.
“And why the hell shouldn’t they be?” Imrān Waħīd smiled teasing Rukħsānah Aslam.
“Sex should never be for money. It’s prostitution.”
“So you think all your sisters, your cousins, your Bhābhījāns and even your friends are prostitutes because they have sex with my friend, Durgesh, for his money?”
“Well, aren’t they, at least somewhat?”
“No.”
“Imrān Waħīd, I am surprised.”
“Your sisters, your cousins, your Bhābhījāns and even your friends are not alone who enjoy sex with Durgesh. Most of the Musalmān Beauties I know enjoy sex with Durgesh.”
“And you are proud of it?”
“Come out of your ever harmful communalism, Rukħsānah Aslam.” Imrān Waħīd said scornfully, “It has always harmed us Musalmīn too much.”*
Amīnah Zahīr smiled at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
She was now on her knees.
I was fucking Amīnah Zahīr now from her glorious teen behind.
“I’m doubtful, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, whether we actually establish our Dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
“Nonsense, Durgesh has to be with us. The entire Vedic Monotheist Hindus are with us. Even the traditional Hindus are with us.”
“But the Brāhmañ Beauties are opposing us, the Savarñ Beauties are opposing us.” Amīnah Zahīr looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan gravely.
“The Brāhmañ Beauties want Bachhalyās and the Savarñ Beauties want Vedic Monotheist Hindus who were born Dalits, the downtroddens. That’s what Kr’ñvanto Vishvamāryam, Dharm Santānam, Dharm Sansthñpan for them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Only the Brāhmañ Beauties and Savarñ Beauties could be managed. A large number of them is already with us. They haven’t any problem with our Dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
Amīnah Zahīr looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan incredulously.
She changed the subject abruptly.
Looked at Pranav Yogendr Divyanand,
“So you say I knew Al Samīnah Al Qāsim?”
“Sure. Haven’t you?”
“In Nevada?”
“That’s what I said.”
“I was quite friendly with Al Samīnah Al Qāsim? I talked her out of getting a divorce from her husband. Told her that if she’d sit tight and let her husband think she’d secured a divorce, then when Imām Muħammad Ħasan had found some other interest he could be made to pay a lot of money for a settlement?”
“That’s what I say.”
“Have you heard of something called defamation of character?”
“Oh sure.”
“If you can’t prove what you are claiming that’s what you have to face.”
“I can prove it.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled disarmingly.
There was a silence for several seconds.
Amīnah Zahīr kept her teenager big yet heavy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks thrusting into my nude Hindu lap.
My legendary Uncut Hindu Cock kept vanishing into Amīnah Zahīr’s teen tiny Musalmān Cunt to my balls, coming out until only its head remained inside and then again buried deepest unto my balls.
Amīnah Zahīr was enjoying our lovemaking enormously.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand continued to say,
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim came down to Ved Nagar on the pretext that her husband, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, was here. It was an early hour this morning. She stopped in here and had her gasoline tank filled. In the meantime when her gasoline tank was being filled, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim enjoyed sex with Jījū.”
“Why?” Amīnah Zahīr asked sarcastically, “Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt was tighter than even my teenager Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt? Or, you think Durgesh is fed up of me at my so early teen age?”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at Amīnah Zahīr patiently.
“Jījū never enjoyed you Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauties. He enjoys the Musalmān Beauties of his own age more.”
“Nonsense, you mean Durgesh is not enjoying lovemaking with me? Only I am enjoying his Uncut Hindu Cock in my teenager Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt?”
“If not, why the Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh movement is there?” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled sharply, “Al Samīnah Al Qāsim stopped in here and had her gasoline tank filled. Jījū filled her own Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tank too with his Hindu Vīrý. I don’t know what Al Samīnah Al Qāsim told you, or what you told her. Nevertheless I do know when Al Samīnah Al Qāsim started from here she was immensely satisfied sexually, physically and emotionally. Her bodyguard was with her. Ǻbdul Raħmān was not an ordinary bodyguard. He was a colonel in Her Excellency Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s personal secret service. Colonel Ǻbdul Raħmān was a Commando. He drove down the road about two miles, stopped her limousine in a parking place off by the side of the road and was murdered.”*
I had been with Pārvatī Pāŧhak and Shiv Shankar Sharmā for two days now.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak and Shiv Shankar Sharmā prepared for bed.
They compared notes, and agreed I needed their help..
“That little fucking Musalmān bitches,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak finally stammered, using a rare invective referring to my Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds and women friends. “They totally screw with his mind.”
“Well, it isn’t just his Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds and women friends. I mean, they are just being their usual self. Most guys would have been able to shrug it off after a while. But his Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds and women friends are his first and almost only love, so they have a disproportionate impact on Durgesh.”
“What do you mean only love? I mean, sure, they make love with Durgesh, but Durgesh is, what, 34, he must have had some other significant relationships.”
“I don’t think so. I mean, he and I have been friends for a long Time, and I don’t remember him really dating anyone else mostly other than needy Musalmān Beauties. For all I know, the Musalmān Beauties might literally be only women he ever slept with happily.”
“Hey Bhagvān, what an impression he must have of other women.”
“Well, it’s not as if he doesn’t know any better. I know he thinks the world of you. Moreover, he’s a smart guy. Nevertheless, yeah, emotionally, Durgesh is almost a cripple except with ever ravenous Musalmān Beauties because he almost never dated other women much. In addition, he built up this notion in his mind about how great it would be when he was with other women. I mean, I hate to psychoanalyze a friend, but there it is. Durgesh needs to be with some non Muslim women if he’s ever going to put Musalmān Beauties behind him and get on with his life, as he should. His Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds and women friends are blinding him constantly against other communities. It’s not good for a Mayor to be so partial to any particular society. Imām Muħammad Ħasan and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan both are using Durgesh for the benefits of their own community.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked at Shiv Shankar Sharmā thoughtfully. “I like Durgesh a lot, and he’s both sweet and handsome, but I can’t see him ever finding a good relationship. It’s a catch-22. Until he comes out of his shell, other women will stay clear, and the ones who don’t probably have enough of their own problems to make things worse.”
“I wish we could do something,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā replied sadly, “I wish we could get someone to seduce him or something, but I just don’t know anyone who’d be willing to do that. It’s a lot to ask a friend.”
Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s words trailed off as Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s mind wrapped around an idea.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak seemed to look right through Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
“You want me to seduce him.” She said it ambiguously, part observation, part rebuke, part question, and part offer.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā paused. Just for a second, but it was long enough to confirm it.
“N-no,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā said unsteadily. “I don’t, not really…” But he didn’t know what to say next.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā just stared at his extremely beautiful brilliant smart Brāhmañ wife.
She struck Shiv Shankar Sharmā as incredibly beautiful at that moment.
She was relatively tall for a woman at 5’7″, and her body was both athletic and voluptuous.
She has long, lean legs, and a hard, flat stomach, but at the same Time, she has large, high breasts, and a rounded Pāŧhak Brāhmañ ass and full hips.
She was wearing a diaphanous nightgown, which seemed to call particular attention to her peaks and valleys.
As part of the pre-bed routine, she had brushed out her long, full, brown hair, and it flowed over her shoulder in shiny waves.
Her face is conventionally beautiful, not exotic, but rather the corn-fed, midwestern, beauty that you associate with the queen at the prom.
She was frowning at Shiv Shankar Sharmā, her beautiful green eyes sad and questioning.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā desperately wished he could go back in Time, and head off the conversation.
The thought of Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife with another man, even Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s best friend in need, gave him a feeling like a lead weight in the pit of Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s stomach.
And yet at the same Time, a part of him was saying that it was the right thing to do, that it was a sacrifice worth making.
After all they also had a duty toward their immensely neglected Brāhmañ community.
What Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu did when he observed the extremely beautiful infinite Musalmān Beauties were representing even the entire denominations in Islam on Durgesh’s nude Hindu male lap constantly?
Isn’t Imām Muħammad Ħasan doing the same thing?
Hasn’t he used his entire extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies even for it and still using?
The Musalmīn are successful because they are aware of what they should do and when.
The Brāhmañs are again losing to Musalmīn.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan is not a Brāhmañ, yet he has learned from Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu.
Can’t he, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, himself too?
If Imām Muħammad Ħasan had Nafīsah Salmān, Shiv Shankar Sharmā too has Pārvatī Pāŧhak.
Doesn’t he?
Can Shiv Shankar Sharmā too sacrifice Pārvatī Pāŧhak as Imām Muħammad Ħasan sacrificed Nafīsah Salmān?
Can Shiv Shankar Sharmā?
Can Shiv Shankar Sharmā?*
As Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s was wavering similarly, her eyes glistened, and then one tear rolled down each cheek.
She looked down at her wringing hands, and then she sniffed and returned her gaze to Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
“I can’t Shiv Shankar Sharmā, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I just can’t.”
“I don’t want you to, Pārvatī Pāŧhak.” Shiv Shankar Sharmā said gravely, “Don’t worry. I married with you. I can’t ask you to sacrifice your Satītv and Pātivratý, even for our Brāhmañ community.”
“How do we know it would even help us?”
“It probably wouldn’t,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā seconded, realizing as they spoke about it that the thought of her with anyone else was just too painful.
“Probably?”
“Durgesh needs something. He needs a change of scenery, a therapist, a non Muslim girlfriend, something. But you are right, there is nothing we can do about it except be his friends.”
“Friends,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak repeated softly. “Shiv Shankar Sharmā, are we… am I being selfish?”
“No, I don’t think anyone would call you that,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā replied.
“I mean, it does make sense in a crazy way. I think Durgesh really thinks Musalmān Beauties are his one chance at love. He needs some sort of reassurance that other women too find him attractive.”
“Do you find him attractive?” Shiv Shankar Sharmā asked.
“Yes, of course,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak answered, a bit too quickly for Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s taste.
Seeing the look in Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s eyes, she continued, “I mean, I’ve never, until tonight, thought of him in anything other than as a friend, but yeah, he is a good looking guy.”
“Maybe that’s all he needs to hear?”
“What if he needs more?”
“I don’t know,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā replied.
She paused and looked Shiv Shankar Sharmā in the eyes.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” she said with a firmness Shiv Shankar Sharmā didn’t expect.
“N-no, I…but…” Shiv Shankar Sharmā stammered in reply.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak approached Shiv Shankar Sharmā, reached out and squeezed Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s hand hard.
“You are a good Brāhmañ, a good friend. I love you.”
And then before Shiv Shankar Sharmā could say another word, Pārvatī Pāŧhak turned and walked out the door.
It took Shiv Shankar Sharmā a moment to process what they had agreed to, and suddenly Shiv Shankar Sharmā realized how ambiguous they’d left it, how open ended this plan was.
As Shiv Shankar Sharmā watched the door shut behind Pārvatī Pāŧhak, Shiv Shankar Sharmā was paralyzed.*
Shiv Shankar Sharmā realized that both Pārvatī Pāŧhak and Shiv Shankar Sharmā thought that it was the right thing in the abstract.
But Shiv Shankar Sharmā also realized that Pārvatī Pāŧhak was going along with it, for Shiv Shankar Sharmā, as much as for Durgesh.
But to his immense surprise, Shiv Shankar Sharmā now didn’t want her to.
Well, Shiv Shankar Sharmā did, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā didn’t.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā knew he should, but Shiv Shankar Sharmā couldn’t.
Choking back his guilt at failing his already immensely neglected Brāhmañ community, Shiv Shankar Sharmā wrapped his mind around the simple fact that he loved Pārvatī Pāŧhak and did not want to share her.
No matter how selfish that made him that was the way Shiv Shankar Sharmā felt.
The realization finally brought Shiv Shankar Sharmā out of his stupor.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā had to stop Pārvatī Pāŧhak.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā went out the door and down to the basement where I was staying and where Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife had gone to try to build up my confidence in Brāhmañ Beauties.
But as Shiv Shankar Sharmā reached the top of the basement steps Shiv Shankar Sharmā hesitated.
Instead of rushing down the stairs, Shiv Shankar Sharmā crept slowly to the bottom.
The basement was divided into three rooms — a laundry room, a small study, and guest bedroom.
At the bottom of the stairs, Shiv Shankar Sharmā could see the light on in my room.
With the door cracked open, Shiv Shankar Sharmā could hear us talking.
It wasn’t too late, at least.
Chapter 50
————————————————-
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
KĦĀTŪN-E-JANNAT: 8
Posted: March 4, 2012 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī, Aħmad Nadīm Hāshmī, Årab Mahābhārat, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Brahmarshi Bhagvān Vishvāmitr, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Fātimah Vaqār Taymūr, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Kħadeejah Muħammad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī, Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī Māmūjān, Nafīsah Salmān, Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu, Pseudo Islam, Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Vishvās Shakr Mānav 2 CommentsKħātūn-e-Jannat
Chapter 8
Durgesh Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah
Ārsh Sadan of the Everfirst Satyug
I smiled belligerently at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“Oh yeah,” I said, “You like that, don’t you? You like being treated aggressively by me.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah groaned again in response as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah realised that Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah did like it.
I pressed my hips in harder.
The tip of my Uncut Hindu Lund slipped between Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s parted young adult sophisticated Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips and fetched up against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s teeth.
“Oh yeah,” I groaned as I rubbed it back and forth against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s pearly whites.
I pulled back a little.
“All right, open your mouth honey and stick out your tongue. Do nothing else though, just poke out your tongue and stay still.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah did as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was told, poking Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s tongue out and remaining immobile.
I rubbed my Uncut Hindu Lund up and down the length of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s tongue, just the tip, letting her taste me but not letting her take me in or to swallow.
She must understand the invaluable prominence of what she was getting.
I didn’t want to let her join Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad.
Even though the Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad was providing me enormously invaluable Sharīr Yantrs, they were trying to replace my old ones unnecessarily.
I couldn’t let them do it.
Fātimah Vaqār Taymūr was my one weapon against the extremes of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad.
Yet, it was not enough.
Why should not I use Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah too against it?
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is doing the same mistake she did in her Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī homewhen.
I had to let her do that because Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī had succeeded in convincing the Ārsh Sadan of that homewhen she was right.
Even Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu were so against the Traditional Brāhmañs of his homewhen that he convinced the entire BRAHMARSHIS they must support Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī’s movement.
Only Brahmarshi Bhagvān Vishvāmitr had supported me.
“I think Durgesh is right, Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu.”*
At my sixty-three now, I still had a lean athletic body.
I was still quite handsome.
I was stunned when I got the news from my friend Aħmad Nadīm Hāshmī that his father had expired suddenly… A massive heart attack.
I was startled.
Aħmad Nadīm Hāshmī was the only son of his parents.
“I’m imprisoned here, Durgesh.” Aħmad Nadīm Hāshmī almost cried on the webcam, “My paternal uncles were trying to disinherit my Abbū. Now, Abbū has gone. I’m in Jail. My four Ammīs and fifty two sisters are helpless.”
“Don’t worry. I’d be in Makkah Mukarramah as soon as the next flight from Ved Nagar would reach it.”
“Thank you, Durgesh.”
“Nonsense.”
“There is one more request.”
“Hey, are you mad? No request at all. Just tell me what do you want me to do.”
“Would you don’t leave my Ammīs and sisters alone at Makkah Mukarramah? I can’t believe my paternal uncles. The life and honor both of my Ammīs and sisters are in danger.”
“I understand. Don’t worry. I’m talking with the Amin-e-Makkah Mukarramah. She would take care of the ladies personally until I’m there.”
Aħmad Nadīm Hāshmī hesitated somewhat.
“Yes. Something more you want from me?”
“There was a rumor that the new Amin-e-Makkah Mukarramah is your woman. Is it right?”
“Nonsense.”
Aħmad Nadīm Hāshmī’s Abbū was only forty-five when he died… Too young an age to die.
He was a rich oil owner and owned some big wells.
After his death, there was no one to look after the wells.
Aħmad Nadīm Hāshmī ’s widowed Ammīs and his young sisters, headed by Tawħīd Nadīm Hāshmī.
I knew that I didn’t have any choice but to go to Makkah Mukarramah and look after the things.
There was not much work at Makkah Mukarramah, except that a round the clock vigil was required to safeguard the wells.
I stared down into the open coffin.
What surprised me most was that Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī Māmūjān looked so small.
The old man had always been a giant to his son Aħmad Nadīm Hāshmī.
He always suspected that Aħmad Nadīm Hāshmī was actually my son.
He couldn’t believe he could father fifty two daughters and only one son.
Even that one son might also not be his.
Now, stiffly cushioned in satin, Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī Māmūjān seemed small.
It was because the air of life had gone out of him.
The great autocratic oil lord of Makkah Mukarramah, a great autocratic, had always been full of life, a force of energy, overwhelming.
Now he was small and motionless.
Otherwise, everything was in order.
Turning from the coffin, I was not surprised to see that none of his houseladies was feeling any loss.
Well, why should they?
All his present four widows were compelled to marry him.
None of them wanted to marry Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī Māmūjān.
Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī Māmūjān was famous everywhere that he could father daughters only.
All his four widows and fifty two daughters were feeling rather good.
Almost buoyant.
I scanned the cascades of flowers that formed a colorful semicircle behind the coffin.
There was one discordant note.
On an easel sat a gaudy Saůūdī flag.
It had come from the royal palace of Saůūdī Årab.
I heard Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī Māmūjān’s Chief Wife, Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb, just ahead, smiled cold bloodedly, entirely unashamed of anything.
“So, one more Yazīd Malåūn has gone to Jahannum, has gone to Hell.”
“Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb.” I admonished her curtly.
But her response was so belligerent that even I was dumbfounded.
Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī Māmūjān’s Chief Wife, Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb, unzipped me without any ultimatum, then and there, brought out my Uncut Hindu Lund and started to give me a pugnacious yet utmost affectionate ashvinātam blowjob.
The Makkah Mukarramah religious police plunged to stop it.
But Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb was nobody’s fool.
She was already prepared for it.
Every religious police person was immediately warned by an almost all pervading utmost sweet feminine voice, as if coming from everywhere.
“Every religious policeperson of Makkah Mukarramah is hereby warned that his/her entire Musalmān houseladies are with Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånhā. This Jahannum-rashīd shaitān, Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī , hasn’t given any human rights to any Musalmān Beauty. We want to celebrate his Jahannumī death by humiliating his dead body openly. One by one, his every sophisticated extremely beautiful Musalmān houselady would come forward and would suck and fuck Durgesh under open sky. It’s our guard of honor to this shaitān.”
The voice stopped for a moment to let its effect digested.
Then it continued again.
“If any religious policeperson of Makkah Mukarramah would try to stop our celebration, we warn him/her that he/she would never succeed. Moreover his own houseladies would also join the celebration.”
A pin drop silence engulfed suddenly the entire environment.
The celebration continued with increasing belligerence.
Everyone present there was dumbfounded.
One by one, the entire Musalmān houseladies of Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī Māmūjān, sucked and fucked me openly at Makkah Mukarramah.
None could stop it.*
It was not only oral and vaginal sex.
It was anal sex too.
Most of them had virgin Musalmān ass.
But no longer virgin anymore.
My Uncut Hindu Lund had invaded their extremely gorgeous, stunning, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass too, openly, under open sky.
Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb was furious.
“We were also compelled to do it, as the religious policepersons of Makkah Mukarramah. Why didn’t they stop it?”
“I don’t believe you, Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb.” I said curtly, “You yourself have managed it. You―all of you fucked me in the funeral.”
Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb winked at me cunningly.
“Prove it in the court, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! I challenge you. You can’t.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad is supporting you. Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club is supporting you. Ashvinātam Gangbang Club is supporting you.”
Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb laughed.
“None can prove it in a court, Hindu Piyā. You can only charge us. You can’t prove your charges against any of us.”
“Why are you Musalmān Beauties are so shameless now when I’m already with you? So many sophisticated Dvij Hindus are already with you?”
Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb only laughed.
She didn’t answer my question.*
Al Ħijāb Annisā’ Al Wahāb and other Musalmān houseladies of Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī Māmūjān left in their Cadillac limousines.
Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī Māmūjān had himself gifted all of them those Cadillac limousines.
How ungrateful some persons could be.
I was quite confident they were wrong.
Aħmad Nadīm Hāshmī’s paternal uncles had succeeded in misinforming all of the Musalmān houseladies of Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī Māmūjān.
They had successfully humiliated Nadīm Muħammad Hāshmī Māmūjān’s dead body even because all his life he fought to establish democracy in Saůūdī Årab, in Middle East, and in other Musalmān countries.
The royal machinery of Saůūdī Årab couldn’t stop it, because it never wanted to stop it.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the riyal machinery of Saůūdī Årab was itself behind it, using Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club and Ashvinātam Gangbang Club too.
Why otherwise the royal Sheikħs of Saůūdī Årab, Middle East and other Musalmān countries were so aggressive in supporting these immensely sexual organizations?
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was not alone in humiliating Musalmīn almost always so openly under open sky.
The royal families of Saůūdī Årab, Middle East and other Musalmān countries were also playing their dirty political games against the proposed democracy.
The proposal was against their vested political and financial interests.
HVSI, these Musalmān Beauties organizations, other local and international democratic and republic organizations were fighting their final Årab Mahābhārat against Pseudo Islam.
I used a Silver Cloud Rolls Royce.
It dropped me off at the aluminum-encased Kħātūn-e-Jannat Building.
I had ridden the express elevator to the 415th floor and headed for the office suite.
The entry door of the office suite bore the gold lettering:
‘Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī and associates
Counselors at law’.*
Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī and I have lived with her extremely beautiful Ammī, Al Ħafsah bint Al Ůmar Al Fārūq, since Al Ħafsah bint Al Ůmar Al Fārūq left Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī’s Abbū, Imām Muħammad Åbdullāh, ten years ago.
She wanted to find herself.
We’ve done well for ourselves.
Al Ħafsah bint Al Ůmar Al Fārūq owned a large construction company jointly with me.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā was so kind to me ab initio that, I didn’t even have to go to work unless I wanted to.
My Pitr’shrī, Vishvās Shakr Mānav, was the man who successfully brought Hollywood, Bollywood, Lollywood and even Tollywood together at the new ever largest city, now called Ved Nagar.
Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī learned how to get anything she wanted from me years ago,
A short skirt, a smile and sitting on my ever-sexy Hindu male lap.
And now her sexy little young, sophisticated adult extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girlfriends do it too.
They make sure my wallet stays empty.
Well, I love it, all the fine young adult sophisticated highly educated Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān pussy keeps my Uncut Hindu Cock hard.
Dark blonde hair, blue eyes, a sweet smile that could melt my heart, a little 34 c breast, a smooth tummy and the best 34 gorgeous Musalmān ass I’ve seen in a long time, makes my cooed Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān stepdaughter, Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī.
Swimming was her thing to stay in condition.
She loved wearing string bikinis around the house or just a half shirt with some sexy panties.
We had a big house, five bedrooms, a pool and a family room.
Well, it was suspected now that HVSI was now the ever largest and ever biggest group of companies.
Ever richest too, as well.
I was its lifelong Chairman as I was the man that himself dreamed of, struggled and succeeded in establishing it with my younger brothers and extremely sincere friends.
HVSI was now a dream came true.
There were always so many half-naked young, adult, highly educated, sophisticated smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girls running around the house.
They all loved me.
I let them do about anything they want.
My only rule is, NO boys or men are allowed in my house.
They drink; can smoke pot, anything but, no dicks except only mine, strictly.
They had to be and remain One Man Woman strictly.
One time last year, I was very late getting home.
When I pulled up to the house there was a truck out on the road.
I thought somebody must have just broken down.
I went in to get a shower.
I heard some funny noises from Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī’s room.
I went to her door and “Open your legs, bitch.” a man’s voice said.
Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī was thundering,
“No, my Dad is going to kill you when he gets home.”
I was a big man.
Here I worked out a lot plus all the years of construction work.
I could take care of things pretty good.
Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī’s door flew off the hinges pretty easy when my shoulder hit it.
There was my little girl on her bed, nothing but panties on.
Some naked, long hair prick with a ponytail on top of her with a knife at her neck.
With one quick yank on the hair, the little bastard was in the hall with his head sunk into the wall.
Yelling at the top of my voice,
“You are dead when I get back girl.”
I grabbed the punk by his hair, pulling him down the hall.
I called the police and he was arrested immediately.
He sounded like a little girl crying now.
The police inspector turned and smacked the shit out of him.
I stomped back to the house, there was Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī standing in the door,
“Get to the fucking bathroom.” I said in a low very mean voice.
As she turned to walk I saw her beautiful tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān ass.
I smacked it hard,
“Ouch, Daddy, I’m sorry.”
I smacked the other cheek even harder.
With each step she took her sweet little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass would wiggle, then I would smack her tight ass, it turned me on.
Somewhere in there my towel fell off exposing my 12 inch Uncut Hindu Cock.
As she walked my Uncut Hindu Cock was only inches from her awfully stunning perfect, firm, round, outstanding, superb, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
It bumped her once or twice.
I had never really seen her like this.
Her panties were about 2 sizes too small.
Her little her awfully stunning perfect, firm, round, outstanding, superb, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass cheeks hung half way out of them.
That made me even hornier.
Her slim back, the little legs the way they connected to her awfully stunning perfect, firm, round, outstanding, superb, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, it was great.
“Get in the shower. Wash your nasty fucking body.” I said.
She started to pull off her little panties, I told her to leave them on.
“Daddy, he couldn’t do anything.” she replied, “He was only a foolish communal Musalmān who was jealous of you that his own Musalmān sisters are my friends and they are almost your Live in Relationship Partners now. He wanted to requite stupidly.
“I don’t give a shit, start washing.”
She had soap in a bottle.
She put a few drops on her sponge.
” Use more.” I demanded.
I grabbed it from her and just squirted it all over her.
Then she didn’t wash hard enough.
I took her sponge and started to scrub her down myself.
Somewhere in this, I saw her looking down at my Uncut Hindu Cock.
I had come here leaving nude Kħātūn-e-Jannat Saiyadah Fātimah sleeping on my bed.
I was furious already.
Sālī Kħātūn-e-Jannat Saiyadah Fātimah had teased and tempted me too much.
I wanted a release badly.
And here I had to face the communal jealousy of a foolish Musalmān brother of some of my young adult Musalmān girlfriends.
“Wash the soap off and hurry the fuck up,” I grabbed Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī pushing her toward her room.
She was facing me walking backwards.
I was criticizing her the whole time,
“How the FUCK could you allow some little unauthorized cut Musalmān nūnī into this house? He looked like a little girl, if you’re going to fuck a man even, find a real one, not a little fag like that.”
I looked at her.
Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī, my little girl was checking out my Uncut Hindu Cock.
I started talking a little calmer,
“Do you see my Uncut Hindu Cock? That’s what a beautiful little Musalmān Babe like you needs, not something like him.”
Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī tripped and sat on the floor.
My now very hard Uncut Hindu Cock was right in her face.
Her awfully stunning perfect, firm, round, awesome, terrific, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān eyes explored every inch of my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I was myself terrific now due to the abnormal temptation of nude Kħātūn-e-Jannat Saiyadah Fātimah sleeping on my bed.
As I watched Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī look at it, I got harder.
“That’s a prime US Grade A, it will make any Musalmān woman cum like she’s never known.” I told her.
“Now I know Why did Ammī, Al Ħafsah bint Al Ůmar Al Fārūq, ever leave my Abbū, Imām Muħammad Åbdullāh, for you? she wasn’t crazy at all. She was one of the smartest Musalmān ladies I think now. She just loves sex perhaps more than I thought she did.”
It calmed me down to the extent that I even smiled now.
“She loves sex with me very much, Baby. Once I fuck your Ammī, Al Ħafsah bint Al Ůmar Al Fārūq, I don’t have to find other women. I need to be inside a woman always, you know. Something this big, needs it a lot.”
Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī’s little hands reached up and grasped it.
With both hands on it, she slowly started to lick my big Uncut Hindu Lundhead.
Her tongue was so hot and soft, she licked all over my Uncut Hindu Cock head.
Looking into my Hindu male eyes, she gave me a sexy little wink.
Her young adult tender extremely stunning flawless, firm, corpulent, splendid, terrific, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth took in my unique legendary outstanding Uncut Hindu Lund.
Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī sucked it so gentle while her tongue continued to lick my head.
I sat on the floor.
Her young adult tender extremely stunning flawless, firm, corpulent, splendid, terrific, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth locked on my unique legendary outstanding Uncut Hindu Lund, never letting it go.
Well, once into her mouth, almost every Musalmān Beauty reacted similarly.
Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī was making me go crazy.
She was giving me one of the best blow jobs I had ever had.
Her little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth sucked in more and more of my 12 inches.
This girl was going to find out how much my Hindu cum I had and soon.
As she sucked and licked me, her hands were working up and down my long thick Uncut Hindu Shaft.
I pulled her little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot to my waist.
My index finger drove in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, as my Uncut Hindu Lund was being serviced by her extremely beautiful young adult Musalmān mouth.
Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī was so wet and hot.
She moaned and started shoving her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot onto my index finger, sucking my Uncut Hindu Lund wildly.
The cut Musalmān nūnī holder foolish young Musalmān boy couldn’t do anything due to my infinite Bhogchakr.
Yet he had prepared Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī for me optimum, I think.
her extremely fabulous faultless, firm, curved, outstanding, wonderful, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks moved to her sucking of my unique legendary outstanding Uncut Hindu Lund.
Her moaning made me start to cum.
I squeezed her awfully stunning perfect, firm, round, outstanding, superb, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass and pushed my index finger in her as deep as I could.
I touched the inner walls of her.
We came together.
My Hindu cum made her gag but, Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī stanchly kept sucking and stroking me.
My index finger was buried deep in her young Musalmān body.
I could feel her orgasms.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot muscles caressed my index finger as Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī came.
We continued until our bodies gave out.
Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī came, lay beside me and asked,
“Daddy, I love you so much. Can we do this again but, without the ass beating?”
I laughed, hugged her hard and replied,
“I love you too baby. Any time you say.”
We fell asleep in each other’s arms.
She had sucked me so much that for the time being, to even my own surprise, I wasn’t interested in vaginal sex anymore.
What a phenomenal blowjob Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī had provided to me.
The next morning I woke up fast, Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī was on her knees between my legs looking up at me with my unique legendary outstanding Uncut Hindu Lund half way down her throat.
She was sucking as a pro now, locked on my unique legendary outstanding Uncut Hindu Lund.
She moved her head up and down.
Her hands were holding me tight, moving the length of my shaft.
Faster and harder, she sucked; Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī looked into my eyes with a little sexy smile and a wink.
My unique legendary outstanding Uncut Hindu Lund gave her all my Hindu cum.
She sucked hard, wanting to get all of it.
Sucking hard, Assalāt Attahajjud Al Hāshmī kept moving up and down my unique legendary outstanding Uncut Hindu Lund.
After she finished she looked at me very sexy and said,
“Good morning Daddy.”
I had to answer,
“It will be now.”
She gave me her big smile and ran to get ready for outing.
I know she told her pack of girlfriends all about what we did.
From then on all of them were always trying to look at my unique legendary outstanding Uncut Hindu Lund. *
Tendrils of salty spit began to dribble from Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s tongue.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah could hear the drips hitting the floor.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt cheap, like a piece of mine at being used as a plaything, as a Musalmān sex goddess, but Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah didn’t want it to stop.
“All right my little Uncut Hindu Lund-tease; you’ve been good so far and I know you’re just dying to suck My Uncut Hindu Lund, so I’m going to let you. Make sure you do a good job though. I wouldn’t want to be disappointed. And I don’t think you’d want me to be disappointed either, would you honey?”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah shook her head, making my hand pull Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hair, which made her wince.
I chuckled and let go of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hair,
“Suck My Uncut Hindu Lund, my darling.” I smiled at her.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled too.
She winked at me.
She didn’t have to be told twice.
Licking her lips all over, tasting the salty residue of my teasing, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah opened Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth and leaned forward.
Licking around the bulbous tip of my engorged head, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah quickly wrapped Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s lips around it and sucked me into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth.
I was so big Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s jaw was stretched to capacity.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah could only manage to get an inch or two of my Uncut Hindu Lund into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth.
Yet Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah made the most of it.
Slurping and sucking as hard as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah could, licking up and down along my length, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah stretched Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth wider and pushed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s head forward feeling the tip of my big Uncut Hindu Lund pressing against the back of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s throat.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah gagged, making the little “hhirk” sound as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah pulled back quickly.
“Oh fuck, do that again.” I ordered.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah did, again gagging herself and making that awful sound as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s stomach rolled.
It seemed to excite me even more.
My Uncut Hindu Lund twitched in Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth as I grabbed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hair again and pushed forward.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah could feel gag saliva, thick and stringy, dribbling out over Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s chin and tears were forming in Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s eyes as I fucked Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth.
“Oh fuck yeah.” I growled.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah could hardly breathe, but Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah kept letting me push into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s open mouth.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s throat was constricting with my every Hindu thrust.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s gag reflexed working overtime.
Watery gag tears were dampening Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s beautiful Musalmān lashes even more.
But not once did Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah think to tell me to stop.
Not once did Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah raise her hands and pushed me away.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah didn’t want me stop too!
She was enjoying my Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān even more than I was.
“Oh fuck!” I growled again as I pulled myself out of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth and dragged her to her feet by the hair.
I used my palm to wipe the drool from Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s chin then ripped down the front of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s chemise to expose Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s full breasts.
Smearing the sticky mess all over one boob and pinching at the nipple, I brought my mouth down hard on hers.
My kiss was violent, animalistic and wanting.
My hands were rough, not caring if I bruised or pinched Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s skin.
I was too excited.
She was too beautiful.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s legs were shaking and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot was so wet the juices were running down Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī smooth thighs.
All Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah could do was hold onto the top behind me, and moan.
I pulled the straps of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s top down Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s arms, so the chemise sat bunched just under Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s breasts.
Then without warning, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt my fingers pulling aside the crotch of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s panties and my Uncut Hindu Lund was sliding between Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot lips.
I circled Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī clit, rubbing back and forth across it roughly, before thrusting my Uncut Hindu Lund deep inside her.
My mouth shifted down Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s chest and latched onto Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s breast sucking Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s nipple into my mouth hard.
My tongue was flicking and flicking at the sensitive bud.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was gasping in both pain and pleasure as my hand shifted and I drove my Uncut Hindu Lund more into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s centre.
The heel of my palm ground against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s swollen clit and worked me into a state of quivering readiness.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was so close to cumming that Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was whimpering almost constantly.
My head came up and I brought my mouth close to Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ear.
“Such a wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, honey. I’m going to make you cum all over my Uncut Hindu Lund and then I’m going to turn you around and fuck that tight little ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot of yours, more passionately.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s knees nearly gave out under me, and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah held onto the counter even harder.
“Oh yeah that’s it. You’re so close aren’t you?”
I kept whimpering to Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“Your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot is so hot and wet, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, my darling, I can feel it clenching on My Uncut Hindu Lund. You’re going to cream soon, aren’t you, making it even wetter? And then I’m going to push my big Uncut Hindu Lund deep inside you. I’d fuck you nice and hard…”
My words were making her crazy.
It was what she was already dreaming of.*
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah ground Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hips down onto my fingers even harder as I shoved them into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s climax building to breaking point until a high pitched squeal sounded from Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s throat and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah came all over my fingers, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s juices gushing out of mine like a fountain.
“Fuck yeah,” I swore as I felt Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s liquid cum run over my hand. I pulled my fingers out of mine, bringing them to my mouth and licked them. Not to be mean, I smiled at her then and pushed my fingers into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth as well, letting me clean up the remaining residue. It tasted tangy but sweet and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah moaned a little at the thought. “Do you like that taste of your own ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot?” I asked me and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah flushed a little in embarrassment but kept sucking on my digits regardless. “Mmm,” I said withdrawing my fingers from Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s young extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth. “That’s enough. Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s turn now.”
I spun me around and pushed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah up against the Vikramch. The steel top of the sink dug into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hips painfully, but Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah ignored it, as I pressed my hard Uncut Hindu Lund up against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s butt and thrust against me a couple of times. “Mmm, yeah.” I groaned. Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt my hand press against the centre of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s shoulder blades as I pushed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah forward, Vikramding me over tI kitchen sink. Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s full breasts hung down in the recess and the cold metal pressed against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s stomach. My fingers caught hold of the top of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s panties and without further preamble Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt me yank down Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s panties from behind. They fell to the floor around Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ankles and there they stayed.
Outside tI kitchen window, the world turned grey, and in that pre-dawn light the shadows of the garden took on an eerie shape. Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah thought to Herself, anyone could be standing out there right now and watching this! It sent a shiver down Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s spine to thought that someone could be watching me get fucked by Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s best friend’s Ammī’s Hindu Live in Relationship Partner. Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s nipples screwed themselves up again and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s breath began to quicken once more.
All thought flew out of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s head as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt warm breath against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s swollen lips soon followed by a hot tongue. Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah groaned loudly in ecstasy as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt me eating Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot. My tongue thrust deep inside me, fucking me like a Uncut Hindu Lund, like my Uncut Hindu Lund would be very soon no doubt, and then retreated to glide up and down along Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s slit. I wriggled the tip back and forth over Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī clit, nearly bringing me to another orgasm on the spot.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah gasped in shock and tried to squirm away.
I’d never had this done to Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah before, never even knew that it could be done let alone should be done.
I, the Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, grabbed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hips.
“Stay still.” I smiled at my new young adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān plaything.
“Oh Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah gasped, “Please… no… stop…” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was having trouble trying to get the words out as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt my Uncut Hindu Lund probing Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s tight backdoor, felt my Uncut Hindu Lund break the seal and penetrate inside her shallowly. “Please … Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! that’s …. Oh God, that’s unbearable !” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah groaned as I thrust my Uncut Hindu Lund in deeper and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt Her young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body push back against my probing Uncut Hindu Lund muscle of its own accord.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah couldn’t believe Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was enjoying this.
Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Oh My God, it was like nothing she’d ever felt before, and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot was wetter than ever.
“Mmm-hmm,” I mumbled penetrating my Uncut Hindu Lund between Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s outstanding excellent gorgeous perfect firm round Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass cheeks. “You’re an exquisite young adult Musalmān sex goddess, and you love it. Don’t you? Don’t pretend you don’t, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I can feel your outstanding admirable elegant flawless firm corpulent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass pressing back onto my Uncut Hindu Lund !”
I stopped pleasuring her with my Uncut Hindu Lund and stood up behind her.
I entered Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s outstanding excellent gorgeous perfect firm round Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass again aggressively . “That’s for pretending you don’t like it.” I told her winking at her.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah gasped and felt herself shying as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt the tip of my hard Uncut Hindu Lund rub against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s sopping ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot lips.
I continued to rub myself against her.
Probing with the tip every now and again, teasing her relentlessly until Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was leaning back into me, and trying to get me to enter her.
I chuckled. “You’re not a virgin, are you Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah?” My voice sounded gentle, soothing.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah shook her head,
“No Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah answered, “I hadn’t seen you then. How could have I known I was going to be lucky enough to get you? If I had I would have kept my virginity for you.”
“I didn’t think so.” I replied sounding genuinely pleased as she was speaking truthfully now. “Have you ever had an Uncut Hindu Lund as big and thick as mine before?”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah shook her head again.
“No Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt. Never!”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt her shiver behind me.
“I’ll try to be gentle with you then.” I told her as I applied a bit of pressure against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān slit.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah didn’t care if it hurt.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was so horny Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah just wanted me inside her.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah pushed back against the pressure.
I, the Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, gripped Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hips and held her still.
“Not so fast Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, my little Uncut Hindu Lund-tease. This is going to hurt you the first time, and I don’t want to cause you any un-necessary harm.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah swallowed and tried to stay as still as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah could, even though her young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body kept demanding satisfaction.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt both my thumbs slide down the back of Fātimah her butt and stroke along the sides of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s tight opening before taking hold of the lips and pulling them open.
The tip of my Uncut Hindu Lund pressed in harder, and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah groaned aloud as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt it beginning to press into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s wet lips even further.
I was finally sliding inside her.
This will be fine, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah told herself, what could happen?
Then the reality of it hit her.
As I pressed forward, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt a burning sensation in Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot lips as they stretched wide to accommodate me.
I was too big that Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s poor little ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot couldn’t handle it.
Well, that’s what Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah thought anyway.
The pressure increased to a near unbearable degree, even the natural lubrication Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah produced was not enough to stave off the pain.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was beginning to whimper as the burning sensation intensified.
“Oh yeah, nearly there, honey.” I told her. “Just hold still a little longer.”
With a final push, something gave, and the bulbous head of my Uncut Hindu Lund was inside her.
I groaned from behind.
My voice was ragged and heavy.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was panting in pain as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah gripped the Top in an effort to stop from screaming.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah bit down her cheek, determined not to let me know just how much it really was hurting, scared that I would stop.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah couldn’t afford to let me stop.
Slowly, millimetre by millimetre, I forced my huge girth deeper into Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
The pain had begun to recede, but Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot lips were still stretched taut.
She’d never felt so filled before.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah loved the sensation.
Finally, after a minute or two, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt my warm Hindu balls pressing against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hooded clit.
Ultimately, I was all the way in.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah let out a small sigh of relief, still wondering what I would do now.
I remained motionless for a short time, savouring the position I found myself in.
“Oh yeah, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, I haven’t had a ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot this tight in twenty years. Mmm, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, you feel absolutely delicious around my Uncut Hindu Lund . Thank you.” I whimpered in my low voice.
“No, it’s my pleasure. I thank you Durgesh darling.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled at me.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah moaned a little at the feel of my hard Uncut Hindu Lund buried deep inside her and then gasped as I began to move.
I drew back slowly, enjoying the feel of Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān hole gripping my thick Uncut Hindu Shaft .
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah heard I grunt softly every time my Uncut Hindu pole reburied itself inside her, pressing up hard against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān cervix and causing a different kind of pain to shoot through her young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot began to compensate for my Hindu size, producing copious amounts of slippery Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān juice, to allow me to glide in and out of her more smoothly.
The burning in Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot lips began to recede, pleasure taking its place, but I just knew that Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah would be sore later on.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah didn’t care, right now, it was absolute ashvinātam bliss and that was all that mattered to Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
My hard Uncut Hindu Lund slid in and out of her.
My Hindu balls were slapping against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān clit with every stroke, and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah grunted and groaned with every thrust.
“Eīshān.” I, the Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, groaned. “Such a tight; wet little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot! Mmm, and it looks so good taking My Uncut Hindu Lund up it.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt something warm and wet drop onto Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s puckered asshole and wondered what it was.
Then my thumb began stroking round and round it, making Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s quiver in anticipation.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt me increase the pressure and the tip of my thumb penetrated Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s outstanding excellent gorgeous perfect firm round Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass making her gasp in pain and wanton lust.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah whimpered when I pulled my thumb away, teasing her, and groaned out loudly as I pressed lightly against it once more.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah leant into me trying to get my thumb back in.
I chuckled at me from behind.
“Such a young adult Musalmān sex goddess.”
I grabbed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s hips and pulled me back hard against her a couple of times; causing her to gasp uncontrollably from the force, I applied.
Another warm droplet fell against Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s puckered opening and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah finally realised that I was letting some ointment fall onto Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah felt even abnormal.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah thought her young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body betrayed her as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s ravenous throbbing young smooth Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Panjvaqtah Namāzī Choot clenched tight.
Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! God, I really am a Musalmān sex goddess! Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah thought and moaned again.
“Mmm,” I, the Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, groaned as I felt Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān hole clench on my Hindu hardness.
——————————————————————————————–
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Kħātūn-e-Jannat:1
Posted: January 9, 2012 Filed under: Adult Science Fiction | Tags: Adult Science Fiction, Adult Sex with a positive difference, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Åāýéshah Muħammad Hāshmī, Bachhalyās, Balrām, Behavioural Science, Bharat, Brahmkanyās, Brāhmañs, Durgesh, Feminism, Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånhā, Laxmañ, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Padminī Bhārgav, Parallel Universes, Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu, Prajāpatipati Dax Brahmāputr, Prakāsh, Saiyadah Fātimah Muħammad PhD, Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī, Shatrughn, Shésh, Shlésh, Shāshvat Satyug, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Tārxý, Ved Prakāsh, Zaynab Muħammad Åbdullah, Ārsh Sadan 20 CommentsKħātūn-e-Jannat
Chapter 1
Durgesh Farħānah Al Åbbās
Durgesh Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī
Islamic Morals
Padminī Bhārgav didn’t tell Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan that she had come to her with the express permission from Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī.
Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement was not Padminī Bhārgav’s movement originally.
Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī herself was behind it.
Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu once again supported blindly Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī.
I was exasperated,
“Param Brahmarshi, you are forgetting the fact that my ever notorious wife, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånhā herself is Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī.”
Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu smiled,
“Durgesh, you can’t call my Kħātūn-e-Jannat daughter your ever notorious wife.”
Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī laughed,
“I’m once again on Jihad against Durgesh in my Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan body, Pitr’shrī.”
“Sālī.” I gritted my teeth.
“I can’t help it, Pitr’shrī. Durgesh is always against my best decisions.”
I watched her gravely.
“Haven’t you learned any lessons even now, Satī?”
Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī retorted,
“What’s there to learn?”
“You compelled Ārsh Sadan to support you in declaring Brahmkanyās are Gotr Sisters of entire Brāhmañs. Didn’t you?”
“I requested Ārsh Sadan, not compelled ever.”
“Didn’t you fight the issue until the entire Ārsh Sadan didn’t agree with you?”
“That’s my fundamental political right. Can you deny it, my dear Bachhalyā husband?”
I looked at Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu.
He was smiling sophisticatedly.
“Don’t enjoy her idiosyncrasies, Param Brahmarshi.”
“I object on the word ‘idiosyncrasies’.” Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī smiled cunningly.
“Satī, try to understand, please. Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement would again destroy the benefits of Shāshvat Satyug.”***
Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī retorted,
“Benefits of Shāshvat Satyug? What are they, Bachhalyā Piyā?”
“Call me ‘Durgesh’.” I admonished her curtly.
“I love to respect my husband.” Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī smiled, “It’s not good manners to call one’s husband by his name.”
“Nonsense.”
“Well, that’s what I think.”
“Sālī, come to the point.”
“It’s bad manners to abuse your wife when her father is present.”
Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu laughed.
“You are again enjoying her naughty activities, Bhagvan.”
“Durgesh, please.” Param Brahmarshi said, “I don’t want to be a party between husband and wife.”
“She calls me ‘Bachhalyā Piyā’ on your support.”
“Well, I don’t think there’s anything wrong in calling you ‘Bachhalyā Piyā’.” Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī smiled impishly.
I smiled too.
Sālī was hiding behind the mask of marital relationship between us.
Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu naturally couldn’t interfere until she didn’t come out of this mask.
Yes, Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu was not Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī’s real father.
Her real father was Prajāpatipati Dax Brahmāputr.
But Param Brahmarshi was Gr’harshi of our entire family including Tārxý, Shésh, Balrām Bhrātr’shrī, Bharat, Laxmañ, Shatrughn, Prakāsh, Shlésh and Ved Prakāsh.***
Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu smiled,
“I allowed our Brāhmañ daughters, married to you, to call you ‘Bachhalyā Piyā’, Durgesh, because in this way we can fight our racial pride, our ‘Brahmgarv’ successfully.”
“‘Bachhalyā’ was my birth Gotr in the ever last Kaliyug. It causes me to remember my ‘Pashu Janm’, my animal birth. Isn’t it denying my Dvij identity?”
“Not if it isn’t intended and if it helps in destroying our racial birth pride.” Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu said gravely.
Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī laughed triumphantly.
“I’m unable to understand why you come to this point always now and then.” Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu went on, “Haven’t we already discussed it too much?”
“No.” I said, “I hate this ‘Pashu Janm Sambodhan’, this ‘Animal Birth Address’, for me.”
Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī smiled,
“Yet you love to be called ‘Hindu Piyā’ by your infinite Musalmān wives.”
“That’s another matter.”
“How? They are Musalmān. Therefore? They make Ashvinātam Sharīr Yantrs with you. Therefore?”
“Why not?”
“We Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs are not responsible if their fathers/brothers/husbands don’t treat justifiably with the Muslimahs.”
“I never blamed you so.”***
When Muħammad flew into Miami, all he seemed to see from the air was water.
It was everywhere.
It was the encroaching sea at the coast, and inland ribbons that sliced the landscape to pieces.
Much of the downtown Miami was protected, of course, but outlying districts, even just blocks away, were flooded.
Muħammad was mildly shocked.
But the place still worked.
He was unable to understand why so many Musalmīn of India still loved to vote Congress.
It had to resign.
Being a time traveler himself, Muħammad had never seen so many foolish Musalmīn anywhere.
They hadn’t left another option to their comparatively more intelligent Musalmān houseladies except to woo, even to seduce, competent Hindus for themselves.
“I haven’t objection that Zaynab Bājī has chosen a Hindu his Live in Relationship Partner, Abbū.” His youngest daughter Saiyadah Fātimah Muħammad PhD had complained, “Durgesh is not only a Hindu. He is a black magician as well.”
“What nonsense are you talking, Saiyadah Fātimah Muħammad? Muħammad was furious.
“Abbū, he is fucking infinite Musalmān Beauties.”
“Nonsense. You are a PhD. Shame to you.”
“Abbū, Zaynab Bājī claims she has seen him so.”
“Fucking infinite Musalmān Beauties?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Well,” Saiyadah Fātimah Muħammad PhD was somewhat uncomfortable now, “Zaynab Bājī says she has seen Durgesh fucking infinite Musalmān Beauties, in the, nauzbillah, Kåbah Sharīf itself.”
Muħammad smiled.
“And you believed it?”
“Well,”
“You must be crazy, Saiyadah Fātimah Muħammad PhD.”
“Abbū.”
“Is Kåbah Sharīf itself infinite?”
“No, Abbū.”
“Then how can Durgesh fuck infinite Musalmān Beauties in finite Kåbah Sharīf? Are you so stupid?”
Muħammad had silenced his daughter.
But he knew it was possible.
Yes, his eldest daughter, Zaynab Muħammad Åbdullah, was right when she argued,
“Abbū, if Måraj is possible, why what I saw is impossible?”*
Two years ago, I bought Farħānah Al Åbbās her first car; a sporty little red convertible.
One of those cars you only see pretty Musalmān women and Hindu men going through a mid-life crisis driving.
I swam deep into my thoughts.
I could bring up the day I handed the keys to my Live in Relationship Partner Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam’s daughter, Farħānah Al Åbbās, as if it was on a Rolodex.
Two years ago in the mild stages of spring, Farħānah Al Åbbās blew out the candles on her eighteenth birthday cake.
The very breath that Farħānah Al Åbbās breathed was my breath.
That very breath she exhaled over eighteen candles was the day I felt myself.
I would be sixty-three on my upcoming birthday, by no means ancient.
But my Live in Relationship Partner Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam’s daughter, Farħānah Al Åbbās’s declaration of youthful independence became my silent resolution of long experiences.
And I was having no trouble admitting it.
Why should I?
I was still everyoung.
Wasn’t I, still fucking extraordinary young Musalmān Beauties, even teenagers too?
My age was increasing but so was my bubbling Hindu youth as well.
None knew I was a Parahuman however.
They thought I was a normal human being.
Well, how could they differentiate?
We try to explain the things we can’t deny.
But, naturally, we use our own knowledge and experiences for it.
They took my Parahumanism as an exception to normal humanism.
The exceptions were not unusual.
It helped me in keeping my real identity to myself and to the persons who understood it.
I trusted them.
No use to tell my real identity to the persons I didn’t trust ab initio.
It couldn’t solve any problem.
On the contrary, it could increase my problems instead.
Naturally, I was not stupid enough to do so.
It seemed like only a few, short years ago, I was driving my first car.
The others were surprised that it was not any great occasion to me.
Most of us Hindus were not as happy as the non Hindus were when they had something specific that was material.
We felt happier when we accomplished something in our Shaktimān or Bhogchakr.
To the most of non Hindus it was extraordinary.
They criticized Hindus,
“Shaktimān? Bhogchakr? What nonsense! The language these Hindus use is not even comprehensible.” Muħammad said to his Ammījān, Saiyadah Āmnah.
Saiyadah Āmnah smiled,
“When we say ‘razī Allāhu tålā ånhā’, do they understand? When we say ‘nauzbillah’ do they understand?”
“Ammījān.”
“Every religion has its own terminology based on its own particular philosophy of life and vision.”
Muħammad couldn’t say anything.
Saiyadah Āmnah, his Ammījān, smiled,
“Hindus believe that to every action of a person, there is either Shaktipāt or Shaktixaý. The amount of energy in any person at any moment is his/her Shaktimān.”
“I see, and Bhogchakr?” Muħammad smiled ironically.
One more religious nonsense.
The Hindus criticize Musalmīn for Musalmīn’s religious nonsenses.
But Hindus’ own religious nonsense is also not less entertaining.
“The Hindus believe that the entire infinite creations are made by Allah for our human beings consumption.
Every person thus, according to Hindus, has his/her own Consumption Cycle. They call it Bhogchakr in their religious language, Sanskr’t.
Muħammad laughed,
“We all have our own religious idiosyncrasies.”
Åbdullah Hāshmī smiled,
“Hindus term their religious idiosyncrasies their religious science, ‘Eīshān Vigyān’. They think they can fool non Hindus thus that Hinduism is scientific.”
“Well,” Saiyadah Āmnah smiled, “Aren’t Hindus progressing now fast?”
“Not because their so called Eīshān Vigyān, Ammī.” Muħammad retorted.
Saiyadah Āmnah chuckled,
“How do you know, my dear son?”***
My mind dove deeper into my past memories as I took my exit to the office.
I had given up my spot in the two-car garage to my Live in Relationship Partner Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam’s daughter, Farħānah Al Åbbās’ car.
It seemed ridiculous to have a convertible car sitting outside in the elements and my fifteen year old Chevy Silverado had seen better days.
Plus, a Hindu gentleman always made sure he cared for the Musalmān women in his life.
The other garage bay belonged to my beloved Live in Relationship Partner of twenty years, Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam.
Farħānah Al Åbbās had definitely benefited from her Ammī’s beauty.
Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam and I had gotten off to a rocky Live in Relationship, in our first few years.
From the normal “settling in” phase to various arguments, it took us many years to straighten out our problems with each other.
But after the newness wore off, our understanding for each other grew.
I had tried so hard to keep the peace with my Live in Relationship Partner; something easier said than done.
I knew when I met her that she would be hard to handle.
Musalmān women as beautiful as her don’t come around often, and I was surprised when she agreed to a first date with me.
Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam was not only an ardent Musalmān Beauty.
She was too communal to agree to maintain her Live in Relationship with a Hindu too.
I knew what I had.
But I also knew it would take me controlling my temper to keep her.
I tried as hard as I could to make my Live in Relationship with Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam work.
I had to.
Being a Hindu it was my duty.
Not only it, being a good human being even, I had to adjust with Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam.
I wasn’t a plaster saint, by any means.
Everyone knew it.
Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam was also included in this everyone.
During our first few years of Live in Relationship, I had openly met several young Musalmān women on the internet.
There was something in the over possessive attitude of Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam that I felt somewhat imprisoned and even tortured by my new Live in Relationship.
The constant fighting that, she was a Musalmān and I was a Hindu, Kāfir, and threats of divorce, threw me over the edge.
The only distraction from that was in the safety of the anonymous interest of another Musalmān Beauty.
A Musalmān Beauty I had no ties or resentment toward.
I even met a few of the young Musalmān women in person.
Some would be only for brief talks, leading to more, but most were simply for my sexual unions.
I always let my temptations take me all the way, bravely.
I was a hyper sexual, a Parahuman.
I needed those Musalmān Beauties not only for my sexual satisfaction, but for my own survival as well.
Ordinary human beings couldn’t understand it very well.
But how could I help it?
By sacrificing my own life, my own existence?
Nonsense!
I was not such a sucker, neither had I wanted to be, nor prepared to be, ever.
I never agreed I was wrong.
Why should have I?
I always used to have intercourse with other Musalmān Beauties other than my Live in Relationship Partner, Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam.
It’s not that I wasn’t sexually attracted to my new Live in Relationship Partner, back then.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, she was gorgeous.
Tall and sleek, she had the body of a competent Musalmān seductress.
Her breasts perked high in her tight, little tops.
I always loved the cuteness of a big-chested Musalmān Beauty.
They just always gave me a warm, sweet feeling; making me smile in satisfaction.
Her legs were something to be appreciated; long and tone, always silky smooth and tan.
She had one of those big gorgeous Musalmān asses that I would imagine a sexy heiress to the families fortune having.
Tight, round, almost giving off a conceited vibe, like it was actually saying, “I’m better for you”.
She had that nice, deep line running from the small of her back up between her shoulders and slender arms and fingers.
Her hands and feet were dainty, something I always loved about her.
Her hair was long and dark, absolute perfection and her eyes matched it in color and luster.
With full, pouty lips and a small, up-turned nose, she was constantly viewed by other people as stuck-up, vein or a bitch.
Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam had everything and I knew it.
But after our Live in Relationship, her looks became horribly skewed as I realized her communal mood swings, controlling attitude and just a general idea that I would wait on her, hand and foot, took its toll on my attraction to her.
I found myself not very anxious to have sex with her and I knew, this happening this early in a Live in Relationship was not a good thing.
Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam was only two years younger than me.
I found younger Musalmān women more open to my intentions.
Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam was the only exception.
I had never dated a Musalmān Beauty that made me wait for sex.
She was a virgin and intended on staying that way until Live in Relationship.
Usually Musalmān women from eighteen to, thirty, i.e. Jet Musalmān Beauties, were more sexually open to chance encounters with Hindu men whom they knew little about.
It was the age they learned of themselves, testing Hindu men with their sexuality, tempting them with their new-found Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān curves.
Once, in a chat room, I started talking to an eighteen year old Musalmān Beauty and three hours later she was draining my Hindu Vīrý down her Musalmān throat.
It was that easy, usually.
Most of the Musalmān Beauties I met only once, and oddly enough, they were perfectly fine with that.
One girl in particular, I met more than once.
At twenty-one years old, slightly thick, with 38DD’s that were spilling over her bra, she was definitely something I never had usually.
Petite Musalmān girls had always been my thing.
The first night I met her, we talked and laughed. something I hadn’t done in a while with Al Jamāl Annisā Al Islam.
I constantly admired her excellent Musalmān breasts.
Almost like an expensive piece of chocolate I slowly peeled her tight shirt upward, my excitement building with every inch of her enormous Musalmān breasts coming into view.
My intentions were hers as well; we had discussed it beforehand.
“Yes, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, I’ll let you play with my Musalmān boobs,” seemed to echo in my mind on my way to meet her.
Her bra forced the top of her Musalmān breasts out over the edge.
She smiled at my overwhelming interest as she unhooked her bra, squeezing her massive Musalmān tits together, with her arms, as she let the straps fall from her shoulders.
Slowly she pulled the cups away and relaxed her arms back to our resting position.
The result was her gorgeous round globes were swaying and knocking together like a desk novelty.
I smiled teasingly at the sight.
I took my time with something as if, a well-endowed rack.
Light touches and strong squeezes excited me more then I knew possible.
Pressing them together, letting them sway, light squeezes turned to lustful squeezings.
I could feel her chest heaving, her breathing becoming louder, stronger.
Then a thought quickly came to me.
“Would you mind if I tit-fucked you? I want to do it to you more than before,” I asked, looking up at her from between her cupped breasts.
“Sure,” Åāýéshah Muħammad panted. “It looks like you’re having a lot of fun. Who am I to deny you, plus, this feels really good!”
I rose and straddled her waist, watched her palm the sides of her breasts, pressing us tightly against each other.
The sight alone made me drip precum.
I slowly slipped my straining Uncut Hindu Cock into her massive Musalmān crease, letting the softness of her Musalmān skin kiss my excited Uncut Hindu Lund.
My unquestionable Hindu arousal for this curiosity, the feeling of firm, huge Musalmān breasts sucking tightly on my naked Uncut Hindu Dick, the unbelievably Musalmān softness of them pressing against my Hindu pelvis overwhelmed me.
I tit fucked Åāýéshah Muħammad for almost half an hour.
I ultimately found my peak, letting loose strands of warm Hindu cum into her extremely beautiful Musalmān mouth.
She held it into her mouth, briefly gave it an accepting look, then looked me directly in the eyes and guided it into her mouth.
I watched, mesmerized, as her full red crimson Musalmān lips clamped down on the base of my Uncut Hindu Lund and gently pulled my Uncut Hindu Lund out; clean as a whistle.
“Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! Has anyone ever told you your Hindu cum is very sweetest?” Åāýéshah Muħammad teased me, swirling her tongue in her mouth; enjoying the remnants of her fresh oral sex with me.
“Actually, I’ve heard that a few times,” I smirked, still teasing her.
As she stepped out of my truck, she waved ‘Allah Ħāfiz’, ‘goodbye’ and we went our separate ways. Durgesh felt the bliss rising deep within me.
I talked to her on the phone, as well as on the internet after that, and met her on three other encounters.
One meeting I pulled up to her car, Åāýéshah Muħammad got out and climbed into my truck.
Not saying a word she unzipped my pants, pulled out my Uncut Hindu Lund and sucked me until I came forcefully into her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth.
Åāýéshah Muħammad swallowed, primed my leftover Hindu cum to the tip of my Uncut Hindu Cock, licked it off, zipped my pants back up, looked at me, smiled and said ‘Allah Ħāfiz’ once more.
That meeting was my favorite; to-the-point, raw, it was cut-and-dry and required no build-up.
Another time Åāýéshah Muħammad knelt down in a parking lot and sucked my excited Uncut Hindu Cock in full view of anyone deciding to park in the lot.
When Åāýéshah Muħammad could sense I was close to cumming, Åāýéshah Muħammad e held out her palm and gently massaged my Uncut Hindu Cock to orgasm.
She cupped her hand in front of the tip and let my warm, sweet Hindu juice puddle into it.
Åāýéshah Muħammad Hāshmī then rose up and began licking small quantities of it from her hand until all traces were gone.
My satisfied Uncut Hindu Cock began throbbing with each fast-paced heartbeat, as I watched her lap my most primal of Hindu fluids up like a hungry kitten.
I had never known a Musalmān Beauty so comfortable, scratch that addicted to the taste of my Hindu semen.
Åāýéshah Muħammad Hāshmī had surpassed all the Musalmān Beauties that loved to enjoy my Hindu semen previously, in their Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouths so much.***
Muħammad Abdullah turned his car onto the gravel road and drove up the hill toward the clubhouse.
The brick building was about 2 miles up the road, in a little forest of pine trees.
It could not be seen from the road.
And unless you knew it was there, you wouldn’t even know it existed.
A generous patron had donated the somewhat isolated land and building to the local Explorer troop some years ago.
Even though it had been built in the 1940’s, the Explorers had taken good care of it, and it was very nice.
The grounds were well-kept with a nicely-trimmed lawn and a picnic area.
Inside, there was a meeting room, a kitchen, a bunk room, and a full gym with weight machines, a large mat room for boxing and wrestling, and a large shower area.
The Explorers were a group of teen-aged Hindu boys who were interested in going into law enforcement or fire-fighting careers.
They worked with local agencies to learn about the job and would meet at the clubhouse on Tuesday nights to discuss what they had learned and plan events and fundraisers.
Other than that, the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club house was mainly a place for the guys to hang out and work on projects or work out in the weight room.
The leaders would come in most evenings and open the place from 6 pm to 8 pm if any of the guys wanted to work out.
But the weight room could get pretty crowded at times.
And the guys would sometimes have to wait awhile for their turn.
That was why Muħammad Abdullah had driven up there that night.
At the meeting the night before, I, one of his fellow leaders, had mentioned to him that I was going to stay late the following night and had told Muħammad Abdullah that he could come and work out if he wished.
Muħammad Abdullah’s school schedule was fairly light the following day, and he thought it would be great to be able to get in a workout without having to wait around for machines to open up.
As he neared the clubhouse, he saw that my car was parked in back, but no one else was there.
The outside light was on, as were the lights inside the gym area.
Muħammad Abdullah parked his car and walked over to the building.
It had been a warm spring day, but a cool breeze had begun to blow through the pines.
It was very quiet up there.
The only sound was the wind blowing through the trees.
Muħammad Abdullah breathed in the pine-scented air and enjoyed the moment.
It felt like he was way out in the country.
He had dressed for his workout in a t-shirt and some loose nylon running shorts.
Underneath his shorts, he was wearing a jockstrap and could feel the breeze blow up his shorts and across his butt.
He liked wearing a jock because of the way it snugly held his cut Musalmān nūnī and balls, while allowing him to feel otherwise naked underneath.
He walked into the gym and saw me sitting on the floor, stretching.
I was one of the older leaders.
I was 62 years old, 6′ 5″ tall, and weighed about 250 pounds, all solid muscle.
I constantly worked out and was very strong.
All the Hindus are strong, Muħammad Åbdullah thought retorting.
The sexiest men in entire infinite Creations and infinite time dimension too.
Muħammad Åbdullah himself was a Time Traveller and he himself knew Hindus were never anywhere as morals as the Musalmīn were everywhere.
Muħammad Åbdullah was suggested so many times to reconsider what his system of life should be for his future life.
He always refused whenever Hinduism was suggested to him to replace Islam.
He was already a Posthuman without resorting to the ever immortal ever sexiest Hinduism.
Muħammad Åbdullah couldn’t think himself fucking his friend’s Musalmān houseladies even.
Not even if his Musalmān friends were terrorists themselves.
How can he fuck the women he called Ammī once?
How can he fuck the women he called Bājī once?
How can he fuck the girls he called sisters once?
How can he fuck the women he called Bhābhījān once?
Never.
Muħammad Åbdullah would prefer even to die instead.
Let Durgesh and the other ever immoral Hindus do it.
To hell with such Sukr’ts.
Might is always right.
That’s what Hindus actually believe in.
Even Brāhmañs don’t agree in this matter with the so called Dvij Hindus and Bachhalyās.
Aren’t Brāhmañs the best of the Hindus?
The Bachhalyās were always immorals.
They always married only one Brahmkanyā, yet they always fucked the entire Brāhmañ houseladies of that household calling them Sālīwife, Salhajwife, etc.
The ever immoral Bachhalyās were the first who started incest.
Moreover, they argued it moral, religious and legal too.
A large number of Brāhmañs, called traditional Brāhmañs, always opposed Bachhalyās on it.
Ultimately Lord Parashu Rām had killed the immoral Bachhalyās consecutively for twenty one times, in twenty one Brāhm Kalp Cycles.***
I reveled in her complete raw sexual cravings, her uninhibited urges to milk my wanting Uncut Hindu Cock of every single drop of my nature.
But what was so intense to me was I had no idea who this Musalmān Beauty was, and she knew nothing of me.
Yet, she had absolutely no quaff with meeting this stranger Hindu to satisfy my desires, to drink in my very Hindu essence.
“Allah, God, that tastes so good,” Åāýéshah Muħammad Hāshmī grunted.
I moaned, dazed from the delight.
Each encounter was something new and different.
A drastic change from the already staleness, sexually, I had already become accustomed to.
On our last encounter, I went to her house to see her.
She was like nothing I had ever met.
She stopped at nothing to amaze me.
She knew nothing would come of our meetings, but I felt, something inside her loved the attention.
I followed her upstairs to her bedroom, admiring the thigh high stockings and very short miniskirt that left nothing covered.
This, she knew, was one of my fetishes.
We had discussed some very, very sexy ideas and fantasies in our little chats.
In her bedroom Åāýéshah Muħammad Hāshmī climbed up on top of me, her skirt rising high from her spread legs until her smooth, shaved Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was easily in view.
“Relax Durgesh darling. Here let me take your pants off so you’re more comfortable,” Åāýéshah Muħammad Hāshmī teased in a little Musalmān Beauty voice.
She stripped away my pants along with my boxers.
Åāýéshah Muħammad Hāshmī slowly sat back down on me, straddling my hardening Uncut Hindu Lund.
I felt the incredible wetness of her warm Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, her lips melting around the length of my engorged Uncut Hindu Lund.
Slowly Åāýéshah Muħammad Hāshmī started slipping back and forth, drenching me in her Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān juices.
“I love sitting on your Hindu lap Durgesh darling, while you fuck Åāýéshah Muħammad Hāshmī.” she winked at me as she peeled her spaghetti-strapped top up over her head, her large melons dropping and swaying from the release.
Åāýéshah Muħammad Hāshmī lowered herself down onto my bare Hindu chest.
Her nipples softly slipped across my skin and then pressed against my Hindu chest.
I lay there in absolute ashvinātam ecstasy as Åāýéshah Muħammad Hāshmī ground her sopping wet Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot along my Hindu girth.
The slushing noises of all those juices being forced in-and-out, up-and-down, back-and-forth was enough to bring me over the edge.
“Hold on Durgesh darling, I’ve got to go get something,” Åāýéshah Muħammad Hāshmī said as she rose up off me.
Cautioning my mind back in reality, I was cautious as I stared at her bare Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot release itself from me.
Strands upon strands of her natural lubrication clung to my Uncut Hindu Lund, refusing the separation.
Well, the refusal was inevitable ultimately.
I’d fucked infinite outstanding Årab Musalmān Beauties in Absolute Space, Param Vyom, since I was brought into existence by my Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā.
It all had made its own infinite time cycle repeating itself again and again.
Musalmān Beauties had to fuck me consequently.
Even they couldn’t resist the temptation.
Their Musalmān Cunts demanded my Uncut Hindu Lund uncompromisingly.
I watched, bewildered, as clear droplets of desire splashed silently, from deep within her, against my lurching Uncut Hindu Cock.
I had rarely, seen a Musalmān Beauty so wet, even while I always fucked infinite of them actually.
Wasn’t it something special?
Certainly it was.
I watched her large, naked extremely beautiful extremely gorgeous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass as she walked into her sister’s room.
Her short skirt was lowering a little with every step.
Walking back into the room, Åāýéshah Muħammad Hāshmī again straddled my hard Uncut Hindu Cock.***
It all made sense now.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā could feel me — feel a man nearby.
The voices and images that had bombarded her made sense now — and they had washed away her old reality.
All Jamīlah Bū Pāshā remembered was being sucked up by the blue light into the Posthuman warship, and the gas she and the other Musalmān Beauties had been subjected to….no, not gas exactly, the were tiny particles like…dust or…spores.
Spores.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā knew that now.
Finally, all of it made sense.
She had eons worth of memories; the biologically—encoded memories of a great race, an ancient race.
The body of knowledge that filled her brain overshadowed all ethical, political, or religious beliefs; her race—memory was all.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had awakened at long last from a prison of petty, weak, female morality and anxiety, and Jamīlah Bū Pāshā knew what Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had to do.
Increase. Reproduce.
Again, and again.
It was not a means to an end, reproduction was the end.
It would be beautiful; she was beautiful.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had been given a gift when the Posthumans sprayed her with their spores; Jamīlah Bū Pāshā knew that she did not need to age, she need not fear rejection.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā knew that Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had a choice of any man… she was erupting with the power of limitless seduction — no matter a man’s station, commitment or preferences — Jamīlah Bū Pāshā could have me…Jamīlah Bū Pāshā could possess the best men…but… but…she didn’t want the best man…
Snarling, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā ran a hand across her slippery Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt .
No, she wanted…all Hindus!
All of them!
She would spread her legs, shake her extremely beautiful gorgeous glamorous excellent exquisite perfectly round firm Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass for any chance to copulate with a Hindu.
She laughed when Jamīlah Bū Pāshā realized that normal Musalmān Beauties would be selective for the most suitable Hindu.
Foolishness!
What mattered was breeding!
When Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had been human; Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had wanted only to attract the right Hindu; now Jamīlah Bū Pāshā could attract any Hindu, and wanted them all!
They thought she was an Egyptian.
‘Pāshā’ was an Egyptian surname.
Well, only her Abbū was an Egyptian Årab Musalmān.
Her Ammī was a Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā closed her eyes, and felt a sweet sensation.
It was an aura that teased her senses like electric sugar.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā could see glowing blue threads in the air,
Many of them with a common root — but with a few wild branches.
The glowing threads that waved and wandered in front of her seemed to radiate that energizing sweetness.
She grasped a tangential strand, and gained a flash of images — massive lovely Musalmān breasts, platinum blond hair, metal studs and piercings, a extremely lovely Musalmān feminine shape.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā visualized herself putting the glowing strand in her ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, and the sugary bliss intensified and stimulated her yet more.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was dimly aware of her flesh flowing, bones popping, chest expanding.
And in a flash, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā knew that Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had become the very soul of desire!
The sweetness grew more intense, and was accompanied by a sense of invincible power.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was desirable now, a perfect match…but….for what?
For a Hindu…Jamīlah Bū Pāshā could practically smell his anti-Islamic Hindu lust.
It was not the nature of the Hindu himself, but the strength of his Hindu libido that drew her.
It made no difference what he looked like.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā knew that Jamīlah Bū Pāshā would spread herself for any Hindu even…Hindus from other planets?
Yes…yes…their Hindu libidos captivated her, made her wet, made her pulse flutter with longing.
Imagine!
There was a time when Jamīlah Bū Pāshā would have rejected a Hindu based on meaningless emotional impulses!
She scoffed at the human woman she used to be, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was…. yes, a Musalmān Beauty.
She embraced the term as normal, natural.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had reached the inevitable evolution of the female Musalmān organism — absolute promiscuity.
She looked forward to impregnation — Jamīlah Bū Pāshā knew that Jamīlah Bū Pāshā could give birth offspring quickly, easily, without pain or risk of injury — in her new, advanced body Jamīlah Bū Pāshā realized the process would be highly pleasurable!
And imagine, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had been afraid when the Posthumans had first captured her!
No…not Posthumans…
“Hindus,” she breathed.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was one of them now.
They were her people, her species.
It was human Musalmān Beauties that were Posthuman now.
Her new sisterhood ruled this planet.
And they would steal every living Hindu away from their own Musalmān Beauties.
But that had already been done.
Only a tiny handful of Hindus in the most remote places on Earth could have possibly escaped the Great Harvest.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā knew that ships had even combed the Kalahari Desert and Amazon rainforests, to capture every possible Hindu to ejaculate into Musalmān Cunts for the Ashvinātam Empire.
But there was one left.
Durgesh must have somehow escaped.
He had a cunning, powerful mind, but his lust for fucking Musalmān Beauties nonstop was strong.
That was what drew her, the greater the Hindu’s lust, the more her own Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān sexual craving was fed — and Jamīlah Bū Pāshā knew Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had taken the shape of a deep—rooted desire.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was drawn to me like a magnet, from my Hindu sperm; Jamīlah Bū Pāshā would derive both pleasure and sustenance, from her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Durgesh would gain a potent addiction.
She loped forward to follow the strands of desire across the stripped soil where blue moss from the Hindus Homeworld had been planted.
Hindus Homeworld?
Really?
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was not sure.
Hindus lived originally in Vyom, an immensely unapproachable Space with equally immensely unapproachable time dimension.
Their President, Durgesh, lived in still more immensely unapproachable Space, Param Vyom, the Absolute Space.
It was said that no man except Durgesh himself could stay male in Param Vyom.
He would immediately be transformed into an extremely beautiful woman, if he even enters there somehow.
What a security system.
Well, Durgesh is Parahuman, the ultimate evolution of Posthumans.
There was a ship; it was a small shuttle made from rough, bluish—purple crystalline blocks.
Not Hindus Manufacture.
Her race memory told her that it was made by an ingenious, telepathic species smarter on average than humanity, but far less fertile.
Nonetheless, the Hindus of that race could not restrain themselves from the limitless sexual indulgence the Hindus promised — and had thus become one more planet of lesbian savages and stud—slaves.
Slaves?
Masters actually.
Now, there were Hindus who had added that race’s genius and greater telepathy to the gene pool at large; making them all the more capable to conquer Trio Arabia Creations.
“Ashvinātam Intelligence is limited; Ashvinātam Lust is eternal.” Jamīlah Bū Pāshā droned, her race memory feeding her a popular Hindus maxim.
The mating instinct was a weakness shared by the smartest, strongest, toughest species — none could resist The Ashvinātam Empire.
And the leaders of this planet had been so eager to ejaculate their freedom and power into the accepting Musalmān Cunts of the First Wave agents.
This ship’s presence here was a mystery.
A mystery that Jamīlah Bū Pāshā would explore after she’d gotten a Musalmān crotch full of sweet, virile, human Hindu Semen.
A mystery that was fleeting, it seemed.
The bluish blocks began to fracture, crack and smoke.
In a few moments, it was clear that somehow, the ship was disintegrating from some reaction inside its own structure.
The blocks fragmented and faded into sandy debris, flowing downwards into a pile around the crash site.
Beneath the blocks oozed a substance that resembled molten metal that flowed in steely rivulets.
In less than a minute, evidence of the Posthuman craft had vanished, and what remained could easily resemble the melted wreckage of any human-manufactured aircraft.
And in the center, stood the Hindu.
I was wiry, of medium height for my species, not bulky, but with a hint of lean muscle.
Clean shaven, my black hair resembled a spiky crew-cut, and there was a fierce gleam of Uncut Hindu Cock—sure certainty in my smoldering eyes.
And my rod… my Hindumeat stood poised, half-erect as if ready at any moment to surge into steely rigidity.
My sausage—like Uncut Hindu Cock throbbed, seeming to beckon her forward.
Knots of desire twisted in her gut, and her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt began to quiver with the raw instincts that burned in her Musalmān blood.
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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Creative Adult Sex: Durgesh 