GOTRBHID MAHĀ BHĀRAT: Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté: 25

Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat

Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté

Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,

Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī

1/18: Ādi Parv

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 25

Durgesh Urmi Upādhyāý

Durgesh Supriyā Bhārgav

Coasting to a stop in front of the house, Nishikānt Joshī was surprised to see his wife’s Green Mercedes parked in the driveway.

Urmi Upādhyāý had found work as a teller in a branch office of a big downtown bank a couple of years ago.

She was a hard worker and had already received a number of pay raises.

The hours were okay. Urmi Upādhyāý only had to work half-days on Saturday, and even that only one in four weekends.

This Saturday wasn’t on her schedule, though, and today wasn’t her day off even if it had been.

Nishikānt Joshī didn’t know why Urmi Upādhyāý was home.

It concerned him because it was so out of character for her.

He walked quickly around the side of the house and in through the kitchen door.

The door hinges were well lubricated.

After all, Nishikānt Joshī was a building contractor.

It was a matter of professional pride to make sure small repairs around the house were taken care of immediately.

Everything was well maintained.

He liked things that way.

He hated squeaks, drawers that didn’t open, windows that didn’t close right…things like that drove Nishikānt Joshī crazy.

Neither the screen door nor the kitchen door itself made any perceptible noise when Nishikānt Joshī opened them.

The couple he could see through the doorway into the living room ostensibly wouldn’t have heard Nishikānt Joshī anyway.

Urmi Upādhyāý and I were too involved with each other.

Nishikānt Joshī froze in his tracks when he saw Urmi Upādhyāý and me.

He’d never contemplated seeing his wife in my arms,  even kissing me.

And he’d surely never thought to see me cupping Urmi Upādhyāý’s bare right breast and working the nipple to a dark red erection with a rapidly moving thumb.

Urmi Upādhyāý was naked to the waist.

Nishikānt Joshī saw her blouse and bra draped across the couch just beyond her.

Her skirt was hiked up past the crotch of her pantyhose and Nishikānt Joshī could see my other hand on her Upādhyāý Brāhmañ sex.

My body hid Urmi Upādhyāý‘s hands, but her upper right arm and elbow were quite visible.

Urmi Upādhyāý and I were moving rhythmically back and forth.

There was no doubt her hand was on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund and giving me a slow hand job.

Her partial nakedness said the hand job was only a preliminary.

Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! God, Urmi Upādhyāý,” I said hoarsely, “I’ve waited so long for today. Don’t tease me, okay?” My voice turned more than a little plaintive right at the last.

Urmi Upādhyāý giggled delightedly.

“Have you, Durgesh, Anant Brahmkanyā Ramañ, Anant Brahmāñī Ramañ, Bachhalyā Piyā?” she replied in a light, coquettish tone.

She was playing with my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.

She brought her hand up to my chest and ground her lower body against mine.

“Was it worth the wait?” she asked seductively.

A red-hot fury engulfed Nishikānt Joshī.

He didn’t think; he couldn’t.

He could only react.

One moment he was frozen in shock.

With his next heartbeat, he was moving swiftly forward, striding purposefully through the kitchen and partway into the living room.

Planting his left foot solidly on the carpet, he brought his right one up in a tight arc that ended in my crotch.

At the last moment, I sensed something behind me…a whisper of Nishikānt Joshī’s shoes on the carpet perhaps, or his looming presence.

Without thinking, I moved away from a threat I had not yet properly identified and into closer contact with Urmi Upādhyāý. That was unfortunate for the woman.

She probably wouldn’t have been hurt if I’d kept still.

The instep of Urmi Upādhyāý’s heavy ladies shoe smashed into the Nishikānt Joshī’s testicles and drove his whole body forward and up.

Urmi Upādhyāý was a strong woman and she’d had a few steps to build up momentum.

It was only the steel-reinforced tip of the boot that slammed into Nishikānt Joshī’s butt but it was more than enough.

Sensitive nerve endings fired instantly, sending simultaneous pain signals to Nishikānt Joshī’s badly confused brain.

For a long moment Nishikānt Joshī didn’t have any breath to scream.

It had been driven from his body by the sudden intense pain in Nishikānt Joshī’s abdomen.

Nishikānt Joshī stumbled against the sofa and clung to it for an instant.

Urmi Upādhyāý had time to set her right foot back down on the floor and ready herself to deliver more punishment.

Her normally pleasant features were twisted into a rictus of tormented rage.

Urmi Upādhyāý took a step deeper into the living room and closer to the shocked husband.

She’d been planning to do further damage to Nishikānt Joshī in front of me but it was abruptly clear nothing more was required.

Nishikānt Joshī began to scream in a high-pitched voice that filled the room.

He collapsed to the floor and began to writhe in agony.

The excruciating pain was overwhelming, worthy of the Marquis de Sade’s most inventive tortures.

Nishikānt Joshī was unable to do anything but scream so piercingly he was close to rupturing his vocal cord.

Urmi Upādhyāý and I stood back, watching Nishikānt Joshī thrash around on the floor while the screams assaulted our ears.

Nevertheless, Nishikānt Joshī saw his wife’s breasts bounce wildly on her chest as her body jerked uncontrollably.

Her lower body was exposed, though covered by her pantyhose. He could see her palms pressed tightly against her vulva.

My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund was still jutting obscenely, yet still immensely attractive from my zipper.

There hadn’t been enough time for the blood to leave it.

It was still hard…still ready to be driven into Nishikānt Joshī’s  extremely beautiful twenty eight years old wife, Urmi Upādhyāý’s willing Upādhyāý Brāhmañ Choot.

The vulgar display sickened Nishikānt Joshī but something else was wrong too.

He looked down.

To his horror, he saw the bulge in his work pants.

He realized his cock was hard, perhaps harder, longer, and thicker than it had ever been before.

A deep shame overcame the anger in his mind, blanking the fury in the space between two heartbeats.

He was mortified.

His own body was betraying him.

He could not be aroused by the sight of his wife about to have sex with Durgesh, his ever successful Bachhalyā Jījū.

It wasn’t possible; he was not that kind of man.

His roars, born of renewed fury and deep humiliation, blended with the agonized shrieks of himself.

It was one thing that Urmi Upādhyāý, Nishikānt Joshī’s twenty eight years old extremely beautiful Upādhyāý Brāhmañ wife and I were prepared for Nishikānt Joshī’s every potential attack already, yet it was quite another thing that his Joshī Brāhmañ penis was appreciating what Urmi Upādhyāý was doing with me.

How the hell it happened?

Does it mean in this Infinite BrāhmKalp Nishikānt Joshī’s such intense humiliation was absolutely a normal event?

Only because Nishikānt Joshī and Urmi Upādhyāý were traditional Brāhmañs and Durgesh was a Bachhalyā?
Durgesh was already fucking now the entire beautiful Brāhmañ houseladies of Nishikānt Joshī’s household.

Even his otherwise immensely sophisticated Bhābhī, Supriyā Bhārgav, argued that the Musalmīn allowed their entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies to fuck Durgesh everywhere.

If the Brāhmañs wouldn’t do the same thing, the Brāhmañs would again lose to the Musalmīn once more.

“The stupid Brāhmañs as you are, Nishikānt Joshī, would again ruin what Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu has recovered and Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī had fought fiercely to retain.”

Nishikānt Joshī had as if fallen from sky.

“Supriyā Bhābhī, you mean… you mean…”

“Yes!” Instead of Supriyā Bhārgav, Nishikānt Joshī’s elder brother, Karuñākānt Joshī, said, “Your Supriyā Bhābhī is correct, Nishikānt. You keep forgetting, it’s Infinite BrāhmKalp now. We Brāhmañs are entrusted now to greater duties.”

Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat?” Nishikānt Joshī asked sarcastically.

“Of course!”

“Bhaiyā,” Nishikānt Joshī said bitterly, “I can understand now why Brāhmañs are so devoted to advertise that it’s Infinite BrāhmKalp now.”

“Oh,” Karuñākānt Joshī said looking at his younger brother sympathetically, “Why?”

“You Brāhmañs are not interested in your so called Infinite BrāhmKalp now. You are interested actually in beautiful Musalmān houseladies who can’t get Durgesh himself for them.”

“Anything wrong in it?” Karuñākānt Joshī asked curtly.

“You were never satisfied with Supriyā Bhābhī.” Nishikānt Joshī said bitterly, “Her sophisticated behavior was never suitable to you. You were always interested, instead, in her ultramodern beautiful Musalmān lady friends.”*

Karuñākānt Joshī watched his younger brother, Nishikānt Joshī, scornfully.

“Who are you to discuss my married life activities and my sex activities? You are my younger brother, not my wife. Hinduism/Ved never allow any houseperson to interfere in the married life of another houseperson. It’s the only practical way to keep a joint family survive with ‘Modmānau Svastakau’, ‘Modmānau Své gr’hé’.”

Nishikānt Joshī gritted through his teeth.

“Bhaiyā, never accept every argument Durgesh offers, without thinking its consequences. Imām Muħammad Ħasan blundered in this way. Now he is a cuckold.”

“I don’t think so, Nishikānt.” Karuñākānt Joshī said gravely.

“What?” Nishikānt Joshī was stunned.

“I think Imām Muħammad Ħasan is one of the greatest persons of nowadays.”

“Because he has surrendered the entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies of his household to Durgesh?” Nishikānt Joshī laughed ironically, “I never thought you have fallen to this level. I’m sorry to find you too salute the rising sun to this extent.”

Chief Justice Vishwambhar Sharmā Supreme Court Multiverse is perhaps too a cuckold in your bright opinion, Mr. Nishikānt Joshī.” Karuñākānt Joshī also laughed equally ironically, rather more ironically.*

Nishikānt Joshī looked at his older brother scornfully.

“You deliberately compelled Supriyā Bhārgav Bhābhī to have no option except to join Durgesh’s bed.”

Supriyā Bhārgav is my wife. You don’t have any moral or legal right to comment how we should behave in our married life.”

“You wanted more sex than Supriyā Bhārgav Bhābhī could offer you, being a Brahm Padminī.”

“And it’s a sin to need more sex than one’s wife can offer him?” Karuñākānt Joshī himself was scornful at Nishikānt Joshī now.

Nishikānt Joshī was stunned momentarily.

He could not disagree with his elder brother, Karuñākānt Joshī, now.

Nishikānt Joshī himself was educated enough to understand that the sexual need of a male or a female was actually the need of the environment surrounding them, not that of their own bodies actually.

The environment surrounding a life form whether the life form is a male or a female always needs fresh base pairs for the survival of that life form.

To fulfill this need of the environment the life form starts to have sexual need.

The more intense the need of fresh base pairs of the environment the more intense the sexual need of the life form.

Nishikānt Joshī was a Post Graduate from HVSI Multiversity.

He had seen his Supriyā Bhārgav Bhābhī teasing me every now and then.

He never liked it.

However Nishikānt Joshī couldn’t even stop his Bhābhī from teasing me.

They were traditional Brāhmañs.

Every traditional society has some traditions out of date it’s careless to change and update itself.

The Pseudo Musalmīn were the worst example of it.

They were too adamant to keep their outdated traditions that they refused to use their common sense even if it were against their enormously outdated traditions.

To kill the other societies for one’s own survival was a tradition among then uncivilized societies once.

The Pseudo Musalmīn were foolishly still adamant to practice it, because they never tried to understand it isn’t needed anymore.

The Democracy has not only its solution but the fair competition too to the survival of the fittest system of life.*

I had noticed Supriyā Bhārgav was always ahead of my other Brāhmañ Salhajs, the other beautiful Brāhmañ wives of my Brāhmañ Sālās, here.

The Infinite BrāhmKalp had started to project its time cycle.

Despite the fact that the ever last Kaliyug itself had its time cycle unfinished for as long as 4, 27, 000 years.

Supriyā Bhārgav always smiled at me more seductively whenever she was around me anywhere.

I understood very well it was only a generous courtesy, not any invitation, or seduction, at all.

I was the son in law of the house.

The youngest daughter of the Pragyākānt Joshī family, Shuchi Joshī, had announced,

“I’ve decided to live in relationship with Durgesh.

Everyone was stunned.

Supriyā Bhārgav tried to break the hostile silence.

“Well, I think we should talk first, Shuchi.”

“That’s a very good idea, Bahūrānī.” Pragyākānt Joshī greeted the suggestion very warm heartedly.

“Well,” Sheikħzādī Ůzrah Sheikħ smiled gravely, “Pragyākānt Joshī, Durgesh was my own boyfriend before we married. I hope you still remember it.”

“I can’t help, Ammī,” Shuchi Joshī smiled naughtily, “if you were a cougar once.”

“Shuchi,” Pragyākānt Joshī said curtly, “you must be ashamed of yourself for the comment on your own Ammī.”

“It’s all right, PK.” Sheikħzādī Ůzrah Sheikħ smiled bravely, “Our children have different morals from me. You knew about my ultramodern morals and you married me with them. They didn’t.”

“Nevertheless, Ůzrah,” Pragyākānt Joshī said curtly, “Even if she doesn’t appreciate your morals, being a Brahmkanyā she must respect at least Imām Nārīm Sukr’té dadhāt and Indro nirjyotishā tamaso gā aduxat. She isn’t a child anymore. She is twenty eight years old and a PhD now.”

“Sure,” Shuchi Joshī said, “I never criticized Ammī for her past. Nevertheless, I would never allow her past to affect my own life adversely.”*

Supriyā Bhārgav regretted her decision to marry a traditional Brāhmañ almost as soon as she married Karuñākānt Joshī.

No, he wasn’t a bad man.

Instead, Karuñākānt Joshī was a very good man.

The entire Pragyākānt Joshī family was actually too good to be beneficial to themselves.

That was the problem.

Being a traditional Brāhmañ herself, Supriyā Bhārgav knew very well traditional Brāhmañs didn’t need their enemies outside.

Their overhumanity itself was a greatest enemy of all of them.

They were good to the extent to be harmful to themselves.

“We must be practical, KK.” Supriyā Bhārgav had suggested.

“You never told me you were a Brahm Padminī,”  Karuñākānt Joshī looked at her incredibly beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ wife gravely.

Supriyā Bhārgav watched him gravely herself.

“Nowadays it isn’t any asset to us Brahmkanyās, Karuñākānt.”

Supriyā,” Karuñākānt Joshī looked at her.

He never anticipated such a depression in his so well educated PhD Bhārgav Brāhmañ wife.

“No traditional Brāhmañ now really wants to marry us Brahm Padminīs, KK, despite our incredible Brahm Padminī beauty.”

“I know, Supriyā,”

“It was our greatest asset when we first came into existence. The entire ever first Brahm Jagdambās were Brahm Padminīs.”

Karuñākānt Joshī couldn’t say anything.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t blame the traditional Brāhmañs even.

They were also normal men.

They too wanted to enjoy their married life.

He tried to blame the Western Culture.
Chapter 26

————————————————————————————————

1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam


Fa qatulū almusharikīn: 21

Fa qatulū almusharikīn

Durgesh

Previous Chapters

Chapter 21

Durgesh Al Jihad Al Vaqār

Durgesh Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās

Al Jihad Al Vaqār glanced about the spacious office once more.

Was Al Nādir Al Ghāzī shrewd enough to play all these games?

Was it possible he deliberately gave her his media empire?

His father, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, had put a restrictive clause in his will about his flagship paper, The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.

His younger sister, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s aunt, Doctor Al Saåīdah Al Qamar, was herself interested in purchasing The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.

Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had requested his father to have The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah even if he gave his three fourth estate to his elder sister, Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī.

His father, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, allowed him to have it for a trial year.

In that trial year, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had to prove his competence on his aunt, Doctor Al Saåīdah Al Qamar.

He had to exceed the circulation of Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Times at least once only at some point during that trial year.

Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s flagship paper, The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, was Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s permanently if he could do the miracle; otherwise, it had to be sold to Doctor Al Saåīdah Al Qamar.

Al Nādir Al Ghāzī gave the paper to Al Jihad Al Vaqār as a settlement.

Now, his former wife, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb was claiming it was her property.

Allah, would Durgesh give Al Jihad Al Vaqār what Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb also wanted to have?

Al Jihad Al Vaqār sighed.

It depended on what particles, what base pairs, Durgesh needed more for the new Infinite BrāhmKalp.

In Delhi, Aap had gotten a landslide victory even on BJP.

INC was finished there altogether.

It couldn’t get even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.

What did it mean?

The Anti- Hindu forces were winning again?

Certainly not.

Was it the beginning of a Counter Revolution?

Against the ever first Psychological Revolution in the entire history of humankind?

It might be.

The Original ever first Psychological Revolution started with the demand of Midterm 2012.

It took two years to build up the required reality and to bring it up to the reality then.

It was a painstaking nonstop continuous Kratu of entire Young Musalmān Lady Brigade of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and HVSI that made the impossible possible.

And now the Counter Revolution?

Well, it isn’t so easy.

If they think they can do it so easily, they were living in fools’ paradise.

Let them.

We need only Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān vaginal rheostats and a Stavak Bar Magnet to meet it.

The most we need are anal rheostats to destroy the anti human desires.

They are also there.

The Young Musalmān Lady Brigade of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is always ready for every worst possibility even.

What the hell else for Modern Democratic Årabia is established by the Seven Movements, the Young Musalmān Lady Brigade of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, and by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself?

Al Jihad Al Vaqār directed her sight toward her desk calendar.

She was ready to get going.

Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s will had made Al Jihad Al Vaqār extremely sensitive to the passage of time.

She had only one trial year.

Nevertheless, both the Kħātoon-eJannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, and Durgesh were with her.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār reached for her ivory colored computer telephone, pressed the ICM button and then the intercom code for Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān’s private telephone.*

Al Jihad Al Vaqār said to Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān.

Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, I’m ready for the meeting. Bring Ghausiyah Imtiyāz with you.”

“Be right in, Al Jihad Al Vaqār. We have everything set.”

A few minutes later Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz appeared.

Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān was carrying a handful of folders.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār motioned her friends and lieutenants to the rattan chairs across from her desk.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār felt comfortable with them.

Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz were the only persons Al Jihad Al Vaqār was comfortable with beside her secretary she depended upon.

Certainly, Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s reliance on Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān was without equivocation.

Both of them were as creative as Al Jihad Al Vaqār herself was.

Moreover, both Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz were perfect when it came to reading Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s mind, even to finishing her sentences.

They were aggressive, daring, and filled with energy.

Both Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz hated Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.

These were Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s confidants and her loyalists, and from now on, they would be properly rewarded

“First things first,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said to Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, “Did you check the daily circulation of Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Times?”*

Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān indicated to the projector.

There was a running information,

8, 75,273.

“HVSI Times manages its subscription always on the top.”

Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān smiled at her, “I thought we should too adopt the procedure.”

“HVSI Times represents the revolutionaries that successfully ended the Scam era.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “We haven’t enough capital to compete with HVSI, No one has.”

“Sure, but it’s today. When HVSI started HVSI Times they didn’t have this capital.”

Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled.

HVSI Times was the dream newspaper.

It has survived the biggest threat of news TV channels.

It somehow always maintained to give something new to its readers the news TV channels couldn’t provide.

As soon as Al Jihad Al Vaqār got the media empire in settlement, she visited HVSI Times herself personally.

It was a multi-story building.

None knew how many stories it had.

They said it was an endless building.

No one believed it.

How a building could be endless.

It was certainly a publicity strategy.

It was the tallest building nevertheless.

The heart of the structure, the one that pumped activity into all the other stories was its Seventh floor.

Most of it was given over to the HVSI Times newsroom.

Its one portion was reserved for the publisher’s suite.

It consisted of the publisher’s main office, the office for my personal secretary and receptionist, a conference and electronic media room, two offices for the advertising director and her assistant, and glassed in cubicles for the managing editor and the assistant managing editor.

Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never changed anything.

He surrendered it to Al Jihad Al Vaqār as he did find it.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār, the temporary heir to the suite and to the building had made few personnel changes.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār retired Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s elderly female secretary on a generous pension and replaced her with her own secretary, Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ, a smart, brisk, thirtyish young woman with short-cropped dark hair and horn rimmed glasses.

Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ had served Al Jihad Al Vaqār with devotion for seven years already in Special Projects.

Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ was smart enough to understand the ambitious Al Jihad Al Vaqār.

Her ambitions were the driving force that would never let her stop anywhere.

Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ wasn’t as ambitious as Al Jihad Al Vaqār was.

Moreover, Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ never had been as resourceful as Al Jihad Al Vaqār had been.

Again, the difference in the intensity of their ambitions was the decisive factor.

Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ lacked it.

She stopped somewhat before getting resources she was after, while Al Jihad Al Vaqār didn’t deliberately.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār had more patience in the matter.

It paid.

Al Jihad Al Vaqār watched Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān and Ghausiyah Imtiyāz,

“Let’s start with the two of you. I’ve been giving it some thought. You will both be answerable only to me. Outside of general orders, everything I tell you will be kept in strictest confidence. Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, this is a bigger job, much bigger than Special Projects. Your work will be greatly expanded, naturally, accordingly.”*

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās straddled me with her beautiful face towards me.

She was enjoying my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund into her comparatively immensely young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot once again.

I knew it would never be a once only phenomenon.

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās could never get rid of the ever-incurable Durgesh Obsession.

Once with Durgesh

All the rest is trash

Wasn’t it?

The more aged I grew the crazier they were for me.

“I don’t want to burn my bridges, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said fucking my ever stout ever pleasure giving ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund wildly, “And why should I? Al Nādir Al Ghāzī has played with my beautiful body, even if in his own peculiar way. I couldn’t help that. My entire body was at his discretion. If instead of fucking me, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī enjoyed tongue fucking me more it wasn’t my fault. I am not responsible for it. He has to pay for my time I spent with him. It was precious.”

“Sure,” I agreed with Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās squeezing her excellent exquisite boobs and buttocks both.

My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was harder and harder now into her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with her each aggressive thrust.

She was kissing me wildly.

Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was squeezing my entire ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund around its shaft.

“I’m really entitled to this alimony if you should warn Al Nādir Al Ghāzī that HVS Law Internationals were going to ask for an increase if he dragged me into court again. It would keep Al Nādir Al Ghāzī from making a move.”

I laughed cunningly.

“Done, however if all the alimony is going to cease in a few months, why not…”

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said bitterly.

“I’m not going to let Al Nādir Al Ghāzī off. I’d go to him and offer to settle the whole business for one hundred thousand cash. Al Nādir Al Ghāzī would jump at that.”

I smiled coldly.

“And you want me to engineer that deal for you. Is that it?”

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās started herself to balance on the tip of my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.

“Well?” I asked.

“You think I’m terribly scheming and designing.”

“You are cautious. You are protecting your interests.”

“Thank you.”*

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kept fucking me wildly.

“Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to fix things so marrying him won’t entail a financial sacrifice on my part. Do you think I’m a gold digger?”

I smiled, grabbed her young nude waist and pulled her on my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund.

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kissed me gratefully as my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot entirely.

“Thank you,” she thanked me once again for letting her fuck me.

“Are you deceiving Priyavrat Chaturvedī for marrying him?”

“Certainly not,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said earnestly, “Priyavrat Chaturvedī knows each and everything of my previous marriages and my recent relationship with you too. I never play dirty with the persons who never play dirty with me.”

“Yet Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to marry you?”

Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās smiled triumphantly.

“What do you think? Am I not that much beautiful?”

I sighed.

“You are too beautiful. Priyavrat Chaturvedī can do anything for you.”

“And you?”

“What do you mean?” I smiled cunningly.

“You won’t do anything for me, even if I keep fucking you?” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās looked into my naughty eyes.

I winked at her.

“If you keep fucking me, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, I can do anything for you, myself, if it isn’t immoral and illegal.”

“Even if I’d be married to Priyavrat Chaturvedī?”

“That’s Priyavrat Chaturvedī’s problem, not mine.” I said gravely.*

Priyavrat Chaturvedī reached his chair.

There was a note on his table.

His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, had called him.

Everything has changed fast.

Narendr Modi was delivering fast what he had promised to the one hundred twenty five crore Indians.

His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, was worried as the other Congresspersons were.

INC couldn’t win even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.

It would again be the same thing, Priyavrat Chaturvedī thought.

Neither his father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, is trying to understand,  nor Priyavrat Chaturvedī’s mother, Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad, that it wasn’t a political change only.

It was the absolute change in Time Dimension too.

It was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.

Priyavrat Chaturvedī stepped out and walked the length of the common room.

“Boss wants you, Priyavrat.” Muħammad Shakīl looked up from a merc pool file as Priyavrat Chaturvedī passed him.

“I know. There was a note to the effect on my table.”

“Why don’t you marry Ambikā Tripāŧhī, Priyavrat?” Muħammad Shakīl asked, “She is my Kħālāzād cousin. I know she would be a very good wife for you.”

Priyavrat Chaturvedī sighed,

“You don’t understand Infinite BrāhmKalp, Muħammad Shakīl.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your Kħālāzād cousin, Ambikā Tripāŧhī, is no more interested in me.”

Muħammad Shakīl was startled.

Priyavrat Chaturvedī didn’t stop there enough to explain Muħammad Shakīl the present situation.

He entered His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī’s Private Chamber.*

Muħammad Shakīl liked Priyavrat Chaturvedī more than he liked his father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī.

He never knew why.

Rām Shankar Chaturvedī was a Congressperson.

Priyavrat Chaturvedī was an ardent fan of Narendr Modi and RSS.

INC has fooled us Musalmīn,” Muħammad Shakīl’s Kħālā, Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad, used to say, “Rām Shankar Chaturvedī was never honest to me politically.”

“That isn’t anything new, Ammī.” Priyavrat Chaturvedī said, “Almost every politician lies. Pitājī isn’t any exception.”

Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad retorted.

“Your father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, isn’t only a politician to me, Priyavrat. He is my husband as well.”

“You are a highly educated woman, yourself, Ammī,” Priyavrat Chaturvedī said, “You knew right from the beginning that Nānājān wanted Pitājī, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, converted to Islam.”

“You fool; do you want to make me responsible for what my Abbū did?”

“Certainly not, Ammī, certainly not.” Priyavrat Chaturvedī agreed, “Nevertheless, you can’t blame Pitājī too. He loved you very much. Nānājān was trying his best to convert Pitājī to Islam. Pitājī couldn’t infuriate Hindus by converting himself. He would have lost Hindu votes for himself and INC. INC never permitted him.”*

Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī looked up.

“You wanted to see me, Pitājī?” Priyavrat Chaturvedī smiled.

Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī didn’t wear spectacles.

Despite his increasing age, his eyesight was still very good.

It wasn’t any rare thing now however.

They said it was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.

As other Congresspersons, Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī still doubted it was so.

“The Bachhalyās were always the best about publicity. They always use superstitions of the people to spread white lies favorable to them.”

Priyavrat Chaturvedī never saw anything wrong in it.

Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī looked confident however as usual.

He straightened his cuffs, leaned back and said normally,

“Sit down, Priyavrat.”

Priyavrat Chaturvedī sat down stiffly and waited.

“Your Ammī said you rejected Ambikā Tripāŧhī too.”

“As always Ammī has reported you with heavy bias, Pitājī.”

“I doubted that myself. Yet, son, she is right in one thing. You should marry now.”

“With Ambikā Tripāŧhī?”

“What’s wrong in it if it happens?”

“Everything,” Priyavrat Chaturvedī said calmly, “I doubt Ambikā Tripāŧhī is a Brahm Padminī.”

“So what? We live in Ved Nagar. Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act isn’t applicable here. Durgesh is immensely against it.”

Durgesh is immensely against Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act everywhere. Yet the entire Brāhmañ Brahmkanyā Brahmāñī Creations are passing it one by one. Durgesh can’t oppose Democracy. Therefore it doesn’t make any difference whether Durgesh is against it or not.”

Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī stood up, turned away and walked to the wall behind his desk.

He touched an inconspicuous contact switch and a section of the wall grew transparent.

Priyavrat Chaturvedī blinked at the unexpected insurge of grayish light.

Dr. Rām Shankar Chaturvedī smiled.

“You are blundering in the same way, my son, the Brāhmañs of the ever first Satyug did.”

“I don’t agree with you, Pitājī.” Priyavrat Chaturvedī said gravely.

Chapter 22

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1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh

2.Durgesh in Hindi/Urdu

3. Science Fiction

4. On History

5. Commentary on Ved

6. On Hinduism

7. On Islam