I overheard Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl, cry as I passed the guest bedroom.
“Oh yes, Shankar! Harder!”
I rolled my eyes.
“It’s nice to see someone is having fun,” I said softly as I moved down the hall.
I passed Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s sister’s bedroom and heard the headboard rocking into the wall.
“Ħabībah really needs to fix that.”
I didn’t much like Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s sister’s boyfriend Vijay, but I’d learned a long time ago to stay out of her love life.
He was an asshole.
I couldn’t hide my feeling on him, not from her, but I remained silent on the subject.
I was sure Ħabībah would figure it out eventually and for the time being; at least he was a good-looking asshole that seemed to make her happy.
Vijay Vikram Pratāp, of course, wasn’t a Dvij, but if he was Ħabībah’s love, Vijay Vikram Pratāp was better than her Musalmān cousins were, her Ammī was trying to marry Ħabībah with.
I moved on once again toward my own room. Shaguftah Jamīl’s cousin Ashok was there with his new girlfriend Sabīħah Åbbās.
Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl, was using my room because the only other bedroom available was Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s and neither Ħabībah nor I thought it right that he and his girlfriend sleep there.
I got Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s bed since she was the one who stupidly broke up with her girlfriend the week before.
“I really could have timed it better,” Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum, mumbled to herself.
Ħabībah and I had started planning this night from the Moment Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum, told us that she was going out of town on business.
I was sixty-five already.
Ħabībah was twenty-three and already working.
She still lived home while she saved up for a place.
Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum, was pretty old fashioned and didn’t let the people we were dating sleep over.
She had to know that we weren’t virgins, but Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum, was a typical Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum.
She liked to think of them still as kids.
It would have been cute if it weren’t so annoying to them.
I stopped in front of my bedroom door and listened.
I forgot to get a pair of sweats to sleep in out of my closet before Ashok and Sabīħah Åbbās disappeared into my room.
I didn’t hear anything, so I opened the door gently.
I glanced at my bed and saw that they were asleep.
Ashok and his Musalmān girl were naked.
My eyebrows rose in appreciation when I saw Sabīħah Åbbās.
I had to give Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl, credit.
I’d thought she was cute when I met her earlier, but now I realized that Sabīħah Åbbās was a lot more than that.
She was hot!
Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl had a very nice Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān body.
I shook my head and looked away.
The sweat pants were easily reachable and I got them as quietly as I could.
I was making my escape when I stubbed my toe.
I cursed as quietly as I could.
“Are you okay?” I heard Sabīħah Åbbās ask.
I looked back toward the bed.
She had pulled the covers up, but I could still see her excellent fantastic Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān curves through the sheets.
She saw me looking and smiled.
“Fine,” I replied a little too quickly. “Sorry. I just needed to get something to sleep in.”
“It’s not a problem,” she said kindly. “I shouldn’t have a problem going back to sleep. I’m still pretty drunk.”
“Aren’t you all?” I grinned. “You finished almost all the alcohol you bought, and that’s saying something! You new generation!”
“It was a fun night,” she smiled in return.
It was sexy as hell.
I looked at her and shook my head as I fought to hide my sudden and intense ashvinātam attraction to her.
Damn Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan!
She had succeeded ultimately to brainwash me, despite my utmost efforts constantly to keep away from her Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was more serious to make me fuck Jet Musalmān Beauties more and more than I suspected her dedication to it.
It was her mission of life to establish the fact that Kħalīfatul Musalmīn, Ħazrat Abū Bakr Siddīq were a better father, an ideal father actually, when he decided his nine years old daughter, Åāyeshah Siddīqah, to marry with fifty plus, Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam.
“Islam is the best religion for womankind.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used to say proudly, “It saved the daughters from being buried alive in then Årabia. Islam is the only Dīn that advocates marriages oriented to morals and humanity, instead of oriented to their bloody age suitability. Islam never supported the bloody age oriented marriages. Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam married Ħazrat Kħadījatul Kubrā razī Allāhu tålā ånahā not for sex, for morals and humanity instead. When he sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam married Ħazrat Kħadījatul Kubrā razī Allāhu tålā ånahā she razī Allāhu tålā ånahā already had been married thrice. Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam easily could have married a virgin, couldn’t he sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam?”
Now I myself didn’t think anything abnormal in lusting for the teenager Musalmān Beauties and even fucking them wildly.
Now, I never thought I was sixty five.
I myself thought I was even less than thirty five.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad had done wonders ultimately.
I obliged Åbdul Waħīd, Muħammad Ashfāq, Åāliyah Fārūq and Lubnā Salīm.
When we reached Lubnā Salīm’s condo, she insisted I join her for a nightcap.
We sat in the living room and drank, looking out at the city skyline and the bright lights below.
“Tell me about what you and Muħammad Ashfāq are looking for,” I inquired.
“We’re crazy about each other, but we’re very different sexually,” Lubnā Salīm replied. “Muħammad Ashfāq is moody and intense and frankly a bit passive. He likes to make love. I, on the other hand, am light-hearted and just love to fuck.”
“We’re out of sync. I want to get my brains fucked out and Muħammad Ashfāq wants candles, flowers and a string quartet.”
Lubnā Salīm took a long pull at her double vodka tonic and continued.
“I’ve always found Hindu men attractive, at least in the abstract, though I’ve never been intimate with any. To try and liven things up, I got Muħammad Ashfāq to watch porn together. It was just sort of okay, but one night I put on an amateur video of a white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife with a Hindu guy while the Musalmān husband watched, and it was like ‘POW!'”
“POW-how” I asked.
Lubnā Salīm laughed.
“POW as in Muħammad Ashfāq got hard as a rock, I got soaking wet, and we screwed like we did when we first got married,” Lubnā Salīm said. “At the same time, Åāliyah Fārūq was telling me about what was going on with you and her and Åbdul Waħīd. I told Muħammad Ashfāq about it, and we started watching what I guess you could call amateur interfaith cuckold videos pretty regularly. I finally flat out asked Muħammad Ashfāq if the idea of me actually fucking a Hindu guy turned him on. He didn’t have to answer the question, because he was hard as a rock in two seconds. No denying it after that,” she said. “And here we are.”
I looked at Lubnā Salīm intensely.
“I’m not into cheating Musalmān wives, Lubnā Salīm. It sounds like this is entirely your agenda. Is that right?”
Lubnā Salīm laughed.
“I definitely am leading the way, that’s fair enough,” she said, “but you and I wouldn’t be here if Muħammad Ashfāq wasn’t intrigued and aroused by the idea too.”
“Ideas are ideas. The reality of watching another man― and a Hindu man at that― taking a Musalmān husband’s white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife can be a lot different than the idea of it for a husband, if you get my drift.”
Lubnā Salīm nodded.
“Supposing, for example, that you really love it but Muħammad Ashfāq can’t cope, what then?”
“We’ve talked about it quite a bit,” Lubnā Salīm replied. “We’re going to give it a month and reassess. Either one of us can cancel at that point, but if we both say okay there’s no backing out after that.”
“Tell me what you want from me,” I asked.
“I want you to fuck me. Not just fuck. I want you to own my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot and fuck it as if I’m your personal Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife fuck toy. I want you to make me totally lose control, and I want Muħammad Ashfāq to see what a real man with a big Uncut Hindu Lund can do to his white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife,”
Lubnā Salīm smiled impishly, winked at me meaningfully and continued.
“And I want Muħammad Ashfāq to know deep down inside that he will never, ever, be able to fuck me like you can, and that my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot will never ever be just for him anymore.”
I watched her gravely.
“You think Muħammad Ashfāq would ever agree to that?”
Lubnā Salīm looked at me conspiratorially.
“Why should we worry about it?”
“I am not interested in Muħammad Ashfāq any more, as Åāliyah Fārūq is no more interested in Åbdul Waħīd any more.” Lubnā Salīm said curtly.
“Most of the Pseudo Musalmīn are losing interest in lovemaking now, but not in sex.”
I smiled ironically.
“Are you telling me? I am fucking more and more Musalmān wives, nowadays, not only with the consent of their Pseudo Musalmān husbands, but even on their own request too. Can you imagine?”
Lubnā Salīm’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān eyes were burning now with immense hatred for Pseudo Musalmīn, including his husband Muħammad Ashfāq too.
“Durgesh, what do you think, your de facto wife, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s movement, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband Movement would have succeeded even if the Pseudo Musalmīn were not actually munāfiqīn?”
“Certainly not.” I exploded suddenly, “If there is really a God, and Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam were his prophet actually, it could never happen. And I believe there is a God and Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam were his prophet actually.”
My voice was effervescent with immense wrath against Pseudo Musalmīn, inherent in me, but I never let it come out.
Lubnā Salīm smiled.
“Lā ilāh illillāh Muħammad arrasūlallāh?”
“Lā ilāh illillāh Muħammad arrasūlallāh.”
Lubnā Salīm laughed.
“You are a Muslim, Durgesh, you are not a Hindu any more.”
“A true Muslim is always a true Hindu too.”
“Don’t believe if you don’t want to. Lā ikrah fiddīni.”*
I began, and paused when I realized what I was about to say.
“You know if you do have a problem going back to sleep…”
What the hell was wrong with me?
“Yes?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
I was horny as hell and tempted, but it was all right, if wasn’t going to happen.
I wasn’t the type to try and steal Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl.
Let Shaguftah Jamīl herself come to me.
Brahmcharyéñ kanyā yuvānam vindaté Patim.
Besides, what kind of heel would do it from right out of bed?
“You could wake up Ashok. I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”
“You think so?” she smiled.
I thought I saw some disappointment there too, but it was probably just my imagination.
“I know!” I laughed, then glanced at Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s cousin, Shaguftah Jamīl, who seemed almost comatose and added, “Although he seemed wiped out.”
“He is,” she replied, slowly looking at me oddly. “Do you want to fill in for him?”
I was stunned.
Sabīħah Åbbās never even thought what she was suggesting me to do.
Tonight was the first time I met Sabīħah Åbbās.
She was pretty quiet earlier.
I would never have guessed she was like this!
“No,” I smiled affably. “Not that I’m not tempted. Hell, more than tempted! You’re hot as hell, but you’re here with Ashok. Come to me yourself if you really so kind to honor me. You are always most welcome. I’m honored. Thanks for the so kind offer.”
“How sweet,” she teased. “Oh, and thanks for the compliment.”
“You deserve it,” I said, shaking my head.
“If you keep talking like that,” she smiled sexily. “I might not give you the choice.”
“I’d better be going then,” I laughed, but it was not easy to move.
“Now look what you’ve done?” she asked. “I’m horny again. I guess I’ll have to wake up Ashok and help him recover.”
“Think you can?” I joked. “He looks passed out.”
“Watch me,” she replied confidently.
Sabīħah Åbbās shocked me again by reaching out and beginning to rub Ashok’s cock through the sheet.
She was watching me, obviously enjoying my reaction.
Was Sabīħah Åbbās teasing me, seducing me actually?
I couldn’t believe it.
‘Wow!’ I thought. ‘This Musalmān girl was definitely something else, drunk or not!’
Sabīħah Åbbās continued to look at me as she worked Ashok’s cock.
I stood there mesmerized.
She had one of the sexiest smiles I’d ever seen.
She let the sheet drop slightly and exposed her ever excellent ever erect Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān breasts.
I shook my head.
“I don’t suppose you have a sister?” I asked.
“Two,” she grinned. “But the younger one is only eighteen and pretty innocent.”
“And the older one?” I asked.
“You, perhaps only you, can handle her,” Sabīħah Åbbās laughed.
“Maybe not,” I smiled. “But after watching this, I’d sure like to try.”
“Watching what?” she asked huskily, no longer laughing. “You mean this?”
And with that Sabīħah Åbbās pulled Ashok’s hard cock from under the sheet and took it into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān mouth.
Her awfully attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān eyes never left mine.
I smiled at Sabīħah Åbbās.
“Does Ashok know just how much of a slut you are?” I teased her.
After all, Sabīħah Åbbās, herself was teasing me.
Wasn’t Sabīħah Åbbās?
She pulled off Ashok’s cock.
It glistened, but I wasn’t really looking at it.
My eyes were locked with hers.
“Not yet,” she smiled sexily, stroking Ashok’s cock. “But he’s learning.”
“Are you sure you aren’t willing to introduce me to your sister?” I kept smiling.
“Maybe one day,” she smiled. “Or maybe I’ll let Ashok play with my sister too and keep you to myself.”
“Wow!” I cried. “Are you always like this?”
“Not usually,” she admitted. “But as I said earlier, I’m drunk.”
“So if you were sober you wouldn’t want to do what you just suggested?”
“Oh, I would want to do it,” she replied. “I just wouldn’t have suggested it, at least not so soon after starting to date Ashok and meeting you.”
“You are something else!” I said, shaking my head.
“Yes, she is,” Ashok said, finally awake.
“Hey Hindu lover boy,” Sabīħah Åbbās said, smiling at Ashok.
She followed that by taking Ashok’s cock back into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān mouth.
He looked at me and grinned.
“You two have fun,” I said, shaking my head again and leaving my room.
I went into the bathroom and changed into my sweats.
I had to wrestle my cock inside.
Sabīħah Åbbās really got to me.
No surprise there, but I was also a little shocked at Ashok.
He was nineteen and Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s younger cousin, but he seemed to take Sabīħah Åbbās’s sexuality in stride much better than I did.
It wasn’t a good sign.
Could he let his extremely beautiful ultramodern Musalmān girlfriend fuck me?
If yes, either he wasn’t serious about her, or he wasn’t as possessive as the most of the Hindus are usually.
I forced, Tried to force myself, not to think about it or I’d never get to sleep.
Al Furqān Al Firdaus, my Bahoo Bégum’s room was the biggest after my own master bedroom, and she had a king sized bed.
I shook my head as I looked at it.
It was too bad she never shared it with anyone.
My stepson had disappeared right after he married her.
I didn’t know him and at this point, I never wanted to.
There was a rumor, my Bahū Bégum, Al Furqān Al Firdaus, actually loved me, not her Musalmān husband.
She married him only to cuckold him to both of us.
“Nonsense,” I had exploded, “What the hell these Pseudo Musalmīn want to say? Entire Musalmān girls that marry my Musalmān stepsons actually want to cuckold my Musalmān stepsons to themselves and me? Actually, they want to break my home, my family, terrifying my Musalmān stepsons to leave my home if they really want to keep their beautiful young Musalmān wives to themselves, and don’t want to share them with me.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled,
“Don’t worry, your Musalmān stepsons would rather share their extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives with you, rather than they would leave our home.”
“You keep away from it,” I said spitefully,
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, don’t think I don’t understand the deepest game you are playing.”
“Allah Allah, husband, now what the hell have I done?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked innocently.
“You want it. You are behind it. You want my Musalmān stepsons cuckolded to their beautiful young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives and me. You…you are an immensely incurable incestuous…”
“Yes, I am.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan interrupted me raising her head proudly, “I want your Pseudo Musalmīn stepsons cuckolded to you and their extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī young ardent Musalmān wives. They don’t deserve them. Instead, their extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī young ardent Musalmān wives deserve you.”
“Oh, stop this bloody Optimum Matchmaking.”
“Why the hell should I?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself thundered at me now, “you can’t make me not to practice my Dīn. Lā ikrah fiddīni.”
“And your Dīn is to make my Bahū Bégums my Live In Relationship partners?” I smiled venomously.
“Allah Rabbil åālmīn himself did it. Ummil Mominīn Ħazrat Zaynab bint Jaħash…”
“Oh, shut up,” I laughed sarcastically, “Your version of Islam is as incestuous as you yourself are.”
“The entire humankind are product of incest, Hindu Piyā, entire Musalmīn, entire Christians, entire Jews believe it. You Hindus are not even countable. Adam and Eve’s children had to commit incest to save humankind. We entire humankind are product of their incest. Never forget this ever burning truth before hating incest so much. Incest is necessary to save humankind. Incest is necessary to do justice with us womankind. Why the hell only we daughters leave our parents’ house, not even your stepsons ever?”
1. Bahoo Begum
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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
Assistant Professor Rājéshvarī Rājpūt was cooking breakfast naked again, as Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwar PhD walked in.
Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwar PhD was on the phone with someone and sounded very happy this morning.
He wasn’t communal originally.
Yet his failure to get his love, Assistant Professor Doctor Rājéshvarī Rājpūt, in marriage had made him somewhat curt to the almost entire Savarñ community of traditional Hindus.
He deliberately converted himself into a tremendously successful playboy dating and fucking almost every Savarñ Beauty available to him.
His communal lust for Savarñ Beauties was so intense that he refused to Professor Doctor Safiyah Sultān PhD even when she herself asked him to marry him.
“I am honored, Professor Doctor Safiyah Sultān PhD,” Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwar PhD said gravely, “It’s a great honor for me. But I can’t fight with the criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn, terrorists and other crazy Pseudo Musalmīn that madly try to kill every Non-Muslim that marry any Musalmān lady.”
Professor Doctor Safiyah Sultān PhD smiled.
“You are living in a false, imaginary, reality your immensely wrong information has created in your mind only. Nowadays most of the Hindus are married with competent Musalmān ladies and even maintaining their Live In Relationship with us Musalmān Beauties.”
Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwar PhD smiled too.
“You are correct. But if you peruse them you’d find that most of them are Savarñ Hindus, not us Dalit Hindus.”
“What do you mean?” Professor Doctor Safiyah Sultān PhD asked smiling cunningly.
“Most of the Savarñ women are deliberately vegetarians, not palating even onions and similar vegetables that induce their sexual desires.”
“It has made them the coldest women sexually. Their Savarñ Hindu husbands are fed up of them. They want action that you Musalmān Beauties and Musalmān houseladies provide them.”
“It isn’t the case with you Dalit Hindus?”
“Nope! We Dalit Hindus are still fighting for our self respect.”*
Professor Doctor Safiyah Sultān PhD smiled.
“My information is different. The Savarñ women are marrying Dalit Hindus more nowadays according to my information.”
“Yes, I agree with you. The scenario is changing fast nowadays.”
“Nowadays?” Professor Doctor Safiyah Sultān PhD kept smiling, “Do you know Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, anyway?”
“Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act? United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations?” Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwar PhD smiled gravely, “Who the hell doesn’t know him today? He surrendered his entire Brahm Padminī wives to Durgesh immediately as soon as they passed the Act.”
“You think Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā is a damn fool?” Professor Doctor Safiyah Sultān PhD watched Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwar PhD inquisitively.
“Certainly not.” Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwar PhD said gravely, “Neither Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā is a damn fool, nor the Brāhmañ husbands of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations that extremely loyally surrendered their Brahm Padminī wives too to Durgesh. They were fed up of their ever coldest Brahm Padminī wives. It was a bliss for them to get horny Musalmān Beauties in exchange from Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. The bloody caste system is making all these impossible and incredible things possible. It must be abolished at once, without any further delay.”*
Sunandā Ātréý couldn’t digest it any longer.
She had waited for Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwar PhD to return to her.
Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwar PhD married her not because he loved her.
He married her only because he was one of the immensely incurable communal Dalit Hindus.
Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwar PhD wanted his immensely incurable communal satisfaction having a beautiful traditional Brāhmañ wife.
He wasn’t Durgesh.
It wasn’t easy to be Durgesh.
Even most of the Brāhmañ humanists couldn’t compete with Durgesh in humanity.
Sunandā Ātréý still loved Durgesh immensely.
She was proud of it that she still maintained her clandestine extramarital relationship with me, as Sunandā Ātréý was maintaining when she wasn’t married to Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwar PhD.
I was the ever first man of her life, but alas, I couldn’t remain the last too.
Despite her Jātihīn Hindu Samāj ‘Casteless Hindu Society Movement, Sunandā Ātréý could not succeed in marrying me.
I married Saiyadah Fatimah PhD instead.*
Together we left the alley, and paused at a street vendor’s stand.
“Oh yes, shopping.” I repeated with a smile.
After purchasing some lemonade, we shared the sweet and tart beverage, while strolling down the sidewalk.
Coming to a rest, we looked at a reflection of ourselves in one of the shop windows.
Gazing at my reflection, Sunandā Ātréý took in my strong Bachhalyā features and confidence.
Staring back at Sunandā Ātréý was a man, so full of life and love.
A caring person who made a wish and somehow fate stepped in, allowing it to take place.
Sunandā Ātréý’s Ātréý Brāhmañ gaze traveled down to our hands, noticing how my hand was curled on top of her, protecting Sunandā Ātréý, sheltering Sunandā Ātréý, showing a sense of ownership.
With each pulse of Sunandā Ātréý’s magnificent Ātréý Brāhmañ body, Sunandā Ātréý could feel the need to keep us in this time and place.
Neither one of us wanted our 24 hours ended, but we knew it will, and we knew it had to.
Moving on we continued to walk past people and shops.
Each one was smiling at us as if acknowledging us as a matched set.
Sunandā Ātréý knew that Sunandā Ātréý was my soul mate and that somehow and for some reason we were not allowed to find each other through normal means.
Feeling my gentle pull of her hand, we moved into inside one of her favorite shops.
“Oh how wonderful,” the spark of excitement sounded in her voice.
I chuckled, opened the door and followed in behind Sunandā Ātréý.
The wind brought a mixture of melodies to her ears as it stirred the wind chimes, spread throughout the room.
Taking in the different colors and shapes, as well as all the different musical notes playing in the air, Sunandā Ātréý sighed happily.
I had touched her Ātréý Brāhmañ heart by bringing her here.
I had remembered one of her many passions.
Silently we moved through the displays.
Our hands softly stirred the wind chimes.
Closing her extremely beautiful Ātréý Brāhmañ eyes, Sunandā Ātréý heard each different note.
Her fingers stirred the bars and strings.
As sunlight poured through the window, rainbows were formed.
They danced across the walls, floors and her Bachhalyā lover’s strong Bachhalyā body.
The beautiful colors shimmered and shined bringing a sense of peace to the room.
Sliding from one to the other Sunandā Ātréý gazed over them, pausing beneath a beautiful glass blown chime.
A star, about the size of her palm, rested at the top.
Suspended from it were various shapes and sizes of more stars.
Looking at the tag and reading its title; Wishes.
Sunandā Ātréý realized we must have this one.
Bringing it down, placing it in my lover’s hands, I smiled my agreement.
I too knew the meaning of the chime’s name.
We moved together, paid for our purchase, returned to the sunny street and headed towards the clothing shop.
Her memory recalled what had transpired early this morning.
The arousing state of her Bachhalyā lover had spilled over into the alley.
Being made to love, with the brick wall pressed against her breast, would be one of many enjoyable memories.
Closing her extremely beautiful Ātréý Brāhmañ eyes Sunandā Ātréý breathed in the faint scent of our sexual release.
The tingles and shivers I had given Sunandā Ātréý ran through Sunandā Ātréý’s magnificent Ātréý Brāhmañ body again.
Sensing my eyes on Sunandā Ātréý, I too knew what Sunandā Ātréý was thinking.
Pulling Sunandā Ātréý close to me, my Bachhalyā lips touched her beautiful Ātréý Brāhmañ lips in a hard and heated Bachhalyā kiss.
Her fingers curled in my hair.
My Bachhalyā tongue slid forcefully against Sunandā Ātréý’s, making Sunandā Ātréý give me possession of her extremely beautiful Ātréý Brāhmañ mouth.
My teeth tugged, and pulled at her bottom lip.
Sucking it with firm pressure.
“Hey Bhagvān, Oh God,” Sunandā Ātréý moaned against my onslaught of Bachhalyā desire.
Her Brāhmañ legs weakened from my Bachhalyā masculine touch.
I pulled her perfect, round, firm, heavy, plump, gorgeous, extremely beautiful, Ātréý Brāhmañ buttocks closer against me.
Alas, even her perfect, round, firm, heavy, plump, gorgeous, extremely beautiful, Ātréý Brāhmañ buttocks could not keep her husband, Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwār PhD, to her.
Sunandā Ātréý often wondered whether it was a blunder to marry Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwār PhD despite infinite opposition from almost her every family member, friend, acquaintance and well-wisher.
Was Durgesh right in his perusal of Dalit Hindus?
“Sunandā Ātréý, Mérī Jān, Professor Doctor Narottam Ahirwār PhD is not the perfect match for you.” I had said Sunandā Ātréý pulling her on my lap.
Sunandā Ātréý was immensely glad to find that it wasn’t only a courtesy action from me.
She felt my erection for her between her perfect, round, firm, heavy, plump, gorgeous, extremely beautiful, Ātréý Brāhmañ buttocks.
Hey Bhagvān, Oh God, why Durgesh didn’t marry her?
Everyone thought Durgesh and Sunandā Ātréý would marry.
Even her Bhābhī, Brahmshraddhā Vyās, teased her.
“You marry him, Nanad Jī, I’ll fuck him.”
“Shame on you, Bhābhī,”
“Shame on your Bhaiyā, your Brother, Karñ Nārāyañ Vyās, not on me.”
“Aréréré, Bhaiyā doesn’t fuck you properly?” Sunandā Ātréý teased her Bhābhī, BrahmShraddhā Vyās, feigning mock sympathy for her, “Your Ātréý Brāhmañ Choot too needs my Bachhalyā lover’s Bachhalyā attention?”
“Your knowledge of human history is too poor, Nanad Rānī. Every Brāhmañ Choot always needs Bachhalyā masculine attention.”
“Doob maro chulloo bhar pānī mein jākar.” Sunandā Ātréý laughed mischievously.
“Very smart. You want to get rid of the competition with me for Durgesh’s unique legendary Bachhalyā Lund. You won’t succeed ever.”*
I lay on the bed on Prabhā Shuklā, beside Umā Dīxit, looking across at the totally sated and utterly relaxed Brāhmañ Beauties.
Prabhā Shuklā looked at me properly for the first time since this started.
“Thank you,” she said kissing me.
I could still taste Umā Dīxit on her lips as she did.
She bit at my bottom Bachhalyā lip, not drawing blood, but hard enough.
My Bachhalyā body was so sensitized I could hardly bear it, and groaned aloud.
Umā Dīxit was smiling with pleasure, almost purring as she watched us, like a very contented cat.
She slid up the bed to lie under Prabhā Shuklā, and we lay there, Prabhā Shuklā in the middle of the sandwich, arms intertwined, grasping whatever part of whoever was within reach, before the pleasurable combination of sex and sex took us all into sleep.
I woke in the night and realized I was alone in bed.
I got up and padded to the bathroom.
As I came back, I heard the familiar sounds of sex from the spare room.
I peered through the crack of the open door to see Umā Dīxit spread-eagled on the bed, being brought to climax again by Prabhā Shuklā’s expert hands.
Prabhā Shuklā looked up to see me and smiled happily.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” she said.
I was excited yet left the two of them to their pleasure.
Next morning when I woke again, Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit were back, one each side of me, sleeping the sleep of the happily excited, their arms thrown across my chest.
As I stirred, Umā Dīxit’s hand slipped down and caught my morning Bachhalyā erection.
It stiffened further as she clasped her hand around it, then she apparently drifted off to sleep again.
I looked across at Prabhā Shuklā.
She too was asleep, a happy smile playing around her extremely beautiful Brāhmañ mouth.
I leaned across and kissed her.
She opened her eyes and looked into mine.
“I didn’t know you had it in you”, I whispered.
She smiled sleepily, and reached down to my Bachhalyā Cock only to find it firmly in Umā Dīxit’s grasp.
She smiled again, cupping my Bachhalyā balls instead and hugging me to her.
“Thank you”, she said again, before drifting off to sleep again.
I lay there for another half hour or so.
Umā Dīxit’s hand idly playing with my Bachhalyā Cock, my hand gently teasing her ring or slipping into her Brāhmañ Pussy as Prabhā Shuklā snored gently on my chest, keeping my Bachhalyā Lund entirely buried deepest into her Shuklā Brāhmañ Choot.
Prabhā Shuklā never allowed Umā Dīxit to sleep having me inside her.
I was in Brāhmañ heaven.
Umā Dīxit stirred herself, stretching her full length.
Turning towards me, she gave my Bachhalyā Cock a squeeze, then kissed me full on the lips.
I stiffened as her exquisite Brāhmañ tongue probed my Bachhalyā mouth.
Prabhā Shuklā had slipped onto her back, so I turned gently towards Umā Dīxit, reaching out and cupping her backside in my hands, pulling her towards me.
I reached down between her legs and found her Brāhmañ Pussy, already warm and wet.
Parting her Brāhmañ thighs, I slipped gently in.
I could feel the Brāhmañ Clit pressing against the top of my Bachhalyā shaft as I pushed forward.
“Don’t move,” Umā Dīxit said, and then she clamped down on me, gripping my Bachhalyā Cock.
I groaned with intense Bachhalyā pleasure and tried to push deeper.
“No,” Umā Dīxit said, “leave this to me.”
For the next 20 minutes, we lay side by side, my Bachhalyā Cock held inside her, as Umā Dīxit clamped down and released it, playing with it as if she had a hand in there.
It was incredible.
Umā Dīxit loved my Bachhalyā penetrations of her Brāhmañ Cunt more when she was not under me.
If Umā Dīxit was on me instead, she loved it more.
Umā Dīxit loved to dominate me in sex while Prabhā Shuklā loved my domination on her more.
Yet, I was surprised when I felt slowly, ever so slowly Umā Dīxit edged me upwards, occasionally dragging a nail down my back or digging it into my Bachhalyā buttocks.
Once she seized my arm and pinched it, twisting.
I bit my tongue to stop myself making any noise.
As I got closer and closer to coming I could see, Umā Dīxit was on the brink too.
Then I came into Umā Dīxit’s tight Brāhmañ Cunt.
It was the most amazing sensation.
I had hardly touched her, no gymnastics, just gentle squeezes and yet I felt as if I had been turned inside out.
I couldn’t help it and Umā Dīxit cried out.
As I came, a hand slid around me from my back and caressed my chest.
“Someone’s having a good time,” said Prabhā Shuklā.
She reached out and teased one of Umā Dīxit’s nipples, which had been softening as we both came.
It sprang back again, stiff and proud.
I looked over my shoulder to see Prabhā Shuklā’s extremely beautiful Brāhmañ face close to me, smiling happily.
She kissed me gently.
“I want breakfast in bed.” she said.
“Can’t you see I’m busy, Brāhmañ Beauty?” I winked lewdly.
Prabhā Shuklā laughed and bit my shoulder.
“I” — bite — “want” – bite — “breakfast!”
“Alright, alright. I get the message.”
I sat up then climbed out of bed, making sure I climbed over Prabhā Shuklā letting my hard, dripping Bachhalyā Cock drag across her.
Prabhā Shuklā laughed again.
“Put that thing away — I know where it’s been. Umā Dīxit enjoyed it instead of me. Am I not your Brāhmañ wife anymore, Bachhalyā Piyā? ”
I stood and looked at the two of them, sprawled across the bed.
Both of them in totally relaxed abandoned comfort.
I bent down and kissed Prabhā Shuklā on the forehead, blew a kiss to Umā Dīxit, and started to fuck both of them one by one, as if a bear gone mad.
Umā Dīxit, my wife’s friend, was just full of surprises.
She had just gone through an elaborate salacious roll playing weekend in Atlantic City to pay off a bet we had, so that I wouldn’t get to have sexual relations with Rādhā Pandit and now she was presenting her to me as a birthday gift.
Well I was not stupid.
I was not about to ask her why she had changed her mind.
We could get into that conversation later.
For now, I was resolved to thoroughly enjoy the sensual sight set before me.
Umā Dīxit was wearing a black lace shelf bra that did little to nothing to contain her beautiful 36DD breasts.
I could tell she was very excited by the expectations of the night.
Her mocha nipples were fully erect and protruded past the outer confines of the shelf that her bra provided.
She also wore a matching garter and little black lace thong panties that left no doubt that she had shaved completely smooth.
Black thigh high stockings with a lace banded top and a pair of spiked Patten leather heels that completed her ensemble, accentuating her strong legs and making her curvaceous 5’7″ frame seem even taller.
Rādhā Pandit wore a smooth black and red corset that was laced up the front by a crimson ribbon.
The corset was synched tight at her waist by the ribbon but became looser as it reached her full 34D breasts.
The gap formed by the loosened lattice effect of the ribbon allowed the inside edge of her pink breasts to be visible as the half cups of the top supported her.
Allowing just the slightest hint of her pink areolas to be seen peeking over the top of the lace fringed edge.
She also wore black thigh high stockings that seemed to shimmer on her shapely Brāhmañ legs, and a pair of bright red high heels.
I could feel my Bachhalyā Cock instantly start to respond to the beautiful sight before me.
The exhibition of contrasts in stunning Brāhmañ female form and elegance was exquisite.
Umā Dīxit was tall with shoulder length golden blonde hair, and ice blue eyes.
Long graceful limbs and supple Brāhmañ body with fabulous full natural breasts.
Rādhā Pandit was shorter, yet more compact with a long thick mane of deep red chestnut hair, green eyes, and a luscious Pandit body with smooth flawless alabaster Brāhmañ skin.
This was truly a sight to behold, and any red blooded Bachhalyā would be aroused by seeing it.
Nevertheless, here I was in my living room with these two ravishing Brāhmañ Beauties both of which fully intended to service me.
WOW life was good… It was very good!
As Umā Dīxit and Rādhā Pandit walked across the room, side by side, there was a dizzying display of undulating Brāhmañ breasts, swaying Brāhmañ buttocks and gorgeous Brāhmañ legs.
Each of them was doing her best to be the sultry seductress.
I could feel their effect long before either Brāhmañ Beauties got to me, and I’m sure that’s just what they had in mind.
Umā Dīxit was the first to speak.
“Durgesh, méré Bachhalyā Piyā, Just sit back and enjoy yourself. Let us Brāhmañ Beauties take care of you now.”
With a devilish grin on her extremely beautiful Brāhmañ face Rādhā Pandit said.
“Yes, let us do all the work, big Bachhalyā. This is a birthday you’re going to remember for a long time.” Biting her lower lip, then with a sexy smile… “If you survive.” Both Brāhmañ Beauties giggled.
“Take your best shot, Brāhmañ Beauties. If I’m going to check out that’s how I want to do it.”
Umā Dīxit approached me on my left side and Rādhā Pandit was on my right, each Brāhmañ Beauty kissing my neck and not allowing me to taste their quivering Brāhmañ lips as the unbuttoned my shirt.
Working in tandem, they unbuckled my belt and opened my pants.
Finally, Umā Dīxit kissed me firmly on the lips, and whispered in my ear.
“Happy birthday, Durgesh, my Bachhalyā Piyā.”
Our tongues twined and twisted together as Rādhā Pandit’s hands moved over my chest.
As soon as the kiss with my wife’s friend broke, Rādhā Pandit moved in to take her place.
This was the first time I had kissed Rādhā Pandit other than a hello or goodbye peck.
The first thing I noticed was how soft her Brāhmañ lips felt.
Then her Brāhmañ tongue passed over my Bachhalyā lips and into my mouth.
I could feel her lustful urges as our tongues danced together.
Umā Dīxit was kissing my neck at the same time and I was in Brāhmañ heaven.
I moved a hand up each smooth Brāhmañ body.
I was feeling the differences and the similarities.
As my Bachhalyā hand moved over Rādhā Pandit’s firm Brāhmañ breast, I tugged at the material allowing her breast exposed.
I rolled her nipple between my fingers causing her to moan into my mouth as we kissed.
My left hand was moving over Umā Dīxit’s sleek Dīxit body and I wanted to see just how aroused this whole scenario had gotten her so I moved my hand between her Dīxit legs and up to her black lace thong panties.
My Bachhalyā finger pressed the sheer little lace patch against her wet Brāhmañ Pussy causing Umā Dīxit to moan deeply.
“Oh, Durgesh, Bachhalyā Piyā, fuck me. That feels good.” she kissed my neck and bit my shoulder.
Both Rādhā Pandit and my wife’s friend, Umā Dīxit, were dragging their nails across my chest as we continued to kiss.
Neither Brāhmañ Beauty had yet touched my swollen Bachhalyā Cock.
And at this point I was sure I wanted them to.
As that thought passed through my head, Rādhā Pandit broke our kiss and both Brāhmañ Beauties grabbed at my pants.
I asked them to slow down but they were beyond my reasoning with them.
Umā Dīxit smiled broadly, as my pants were pulled past my hips and told Rādhā Pandit’s watch this directing her gaze at my Bachhalyā crotch.
With one more tug, my Bachhalyā Cock quite literally sprang free right before their Brāhmañ eyes.
Umā Dīxit laughed,
“I love when this Bachhalyā Cock does that.”
“Wooo,” Rādhā Pandit looked at my Bachhalyā Cock for the first time and whispered to my wife’s friend, Umā Dīxit. “You weren’t kidding about the size. Were you? Hey Bhagvān, the Bachhalyā Cock is big.”
My wife’s friend, Umā Dīxit, smiled.
“Just ten inches long it is, and almost five inches around. It may take some practice to get it down your Brāhmañ throat but stuffing it in your Brāhmañ Pussy feels amazing!”
“Ummm Brāhmañ Beauties?”
“Oh yeah,” they both giggled again.
Rādhā Pandit wrapped her delicate fingers around my Bachhalyā Cock.
Her red nails stood out in stark contrast to the skin of my Bachhalyā Cock.
She looked up at me and in a soft voice.
“I’ve been waiting for this a long time.”
Rādhā Pandit lowered her full Pandit lips towards my hard Bachhalyā Cock.
Her lipstick matched her nails deep red color.
As she opened her Pandit mouth to accommodate my Bachhalyā girth she formed an almost perfect O with her lips, as her pink tongue reached for the first touch and taste of my Bachhalyā Cock.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān waited impatiently for the reply.
It never came.
Perhaps the person, who was playing the game, was afraid of her that she was after him/her to know his/her identity.
It was natural there couldn’t be any reply whatsoever.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān went to Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, the lawyer, instead of directly approaching me.
However, she knew very well, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was an integral part of HVSI Law Internationals now.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī called in the postal authorities.
The postal authorities went to work.
The letters continued to come, as if the sender took her action as a challenge and accepted it, instead of being afraid of.
It was impossible for the postal authorities, however, to get any proof.
The person mailing the letters evidently wore gloves.
There was never as much as the smudge of a fingerprint that could be developed in iodine vapor.
The envelopes were mailed in drop boxes in various parts of Ved Nagar.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān’s name and address had been set in type on a small but efficient printing machine, such as those frequently given children for Eīdul Fitr.
At the suggestion of Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān’s divorced wife, was consulted.
She was living with me in Ved Nagar.
Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus remembered having given Muħammad Jamīl, the child, a very expensive computerized mini printing press for Eīdul Fitr for the year before.
Muħammad Jamīl had taken it with him when he went to visit his Abbū, Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān.
It was still there.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān had, it seemed, enjoyed the press even more than his son had.
This information gave Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī ground for jubilation, triumph.
“Now we’ll get the bastard,” she gloated.
Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān made an affidavit against her elder brother that he was torturing her mentally only because Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān loved me, a Hindu, her brother despised very much communally.
He used to call me Anant Muslimātchod Hindu scornfully.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī handled it from there.
The police served a search warrant on Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān.
The said printing press was located without difficulty.
From its condition, however, it was evident it hadn’t been used in some time.
Moreover, the experts gave it as their opinion that the envelopes had most certainly not been addressed on that press.
It didn’t have the font used in printing those letters and envelopes.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān was on bail.
He was excessively polite to the police officers.
“I am not crazy enough to defame my own younger sister and thus consequently myself too. Can’t everyone see it’s a work of someone, who wants to defame and disgrace my Musalmān houseladies and me?”
His ex-wife, Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus, smiled cunningly.
“He is a pervert, as the so many Pseudo Musalmīn are ever. Allah never forgives the Pseudo Musalmīn for their ever disguised blasphemy. The bastards ever misuse the immensely sacred name of Islam for their ever perverted Pseudo Isālm. Allah punishes them by making them bisexual, gay and cuckold.”
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān commented ironically.
“Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus’s Allah is perhaps Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. It’s her theory that any Musalmān that’s not true in his conviction to Islam is Pseudo Musalmān and Allah punishes such Pseudo Musalmīn by making them bisexual, transgender, gay and cuckold.”
“You don’t think it’s true?” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus smiled sympathetically.
“Most of the Musalmīn don’t think it’s true.” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān said gravely.
“You mean most of the Pseudo Musalmīn don’t think it’s true?” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus laughed patronizingly.
“I don’t think they are Pseudo Musalmīn.” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān said curtly, “It’s what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her lady bandits say.”
“I sympathize with you Pseudo Musalmīn, because they are you that are being punished by Allah in this way, by making them bisexual, gay and cuckold, I mean. Allah Ħāfiz, anyway.” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus said sweetly.
“Allah Ħāfiz,” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān said curtly and slammed the receiver.*
No one knew how the name of Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ was mentioned in connection with it.
Neither any one knew who mentioned it.
However, when the police asked,
“Do you suspect your psychiatrist ex-fiancee, Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ might be behind it to defame and disgrace your Musalmān houseladies and you?”
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān said sophisticatedly,
“I don’t think so. The women are softies. Except Musalmīn alone most of the mankind even is softie, or it wants to display itself to be so ostensibly. She could not understand why it’s necessary for me to discipline my son, Muħammad Jamīl, the seven years old child. I’m surprised to the question. I don’t think Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ could fall to such an indignity. We had been engaged. I was quite fond of her.”
“Why the engagement had broken?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl asked gravely, sympathetically, ostensibly at least.
Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān wasn’t a damn fool enough to think ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was really sympathetic to him.
He knew she was one of the greatest fans of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, her lady bandits and Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Yet, she never approved of Triple Society.
Her concept of Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah wasn’t as violent as that of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her lady bandits, after all.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her lady bandits scorned Pseudo Musalmān actually, while ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was sophisticated somewhat, ostensibly at least, even if not actually.
“The engagement had been broken over a rather minor matter.” Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān smiled as if he was the victim of her injustice. However, he didn’t want to talk of it, “Dr. Ms. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ was working altogether too hard. Naturally, she had been under great nervous tension. She had not been like herself for some weeks before the engagement was broken. If there is still anything I can do, ma’am ACP, I want it understood definitely that I’m willing to help at any time whatsoever.”
“I see,” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl could not help herself from being sarcastic, “How nice of you.”
“Nothing at all, ma’am. I would be only too glad to render any assistance whatsoever in tracking down the scoundrel(s) who are annoying my younger sister, psychiatrist Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān. The police are welcome to drop in at any time. As far as I’m concerned, the police never need any search warrant even. Despite all the adverse deliberate publicity against us so called Pseudo Musalmīn, by Her Excellency Kħātūn-e-Jannat Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan razī Allāhu tålā ånahā and her lady bandits, we Musalmīn are too law abiding citizens. My door would always be open to the authorities. Would you please convey my sincere sympathy to my younger psychiatrist sister, Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān? I have tried to call her myself a dozen times, but she had hung up as soon as she recognized my voice.”
It wasn’t until Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus called her that Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān smiled cunningly.
“Was it the printing press?” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus asked Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān.
“No,” Dr. Al Raħīmah Al Raħmān said, “The press was there all right but it hadn’t been used for some time.”
“That’s just like the bastard,” Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus said, “I know exactly how his ever communal dirty shrewd Pseudo Musalmān mind works. He saw Muħammad Jamīl’s press. He then went out and got one similar to it, but with different fonts. Dr. Al Raħīm Al Raħmān probably printed about two hundred envelopes in advance, then he took the press out on his yacht and dropped it overboard. He knew you’d suspect him; that you’d find out about Muħammad Jamīl’s press and get a search warrant―that’s his way of showing you how diabolically clever he is despite the adverse reputation of general Pseudo Musalmīn.”
She looked at Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ,
“I’m surprised you went with him as long as you did without recognizing the sort of man he is beneath his mask.”
Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ resented Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus’s tone,
“At least I found out in time to avoid marrying him.
Dr. Al Kausar Al Firdaus laughed.
“You were smarter than I was.” She admitted, “I was communal somewhat perhaps. I deliberately scorned marrying any non-Muslim those days. Allah punished me for it. Now, I believe Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors are correct. Never marry any Muslim bastard. So many other Hindus are there, even if particularly Durgesh is not available to some unlucky Muslimah.”
Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ too laughed bitterly.
“Nevertheless, you’ll remember I dropped you a note telling you not to be fooled.”
Dr. Al Ħumayrah Al Tausīħ said somewhat ruefully, repentantly.
“I thought it was the result of your jealousy that I succeeded where you failed. Sorry.”
“Allah, Heavens, I’m happily in Live In Relationship with Durgesh now. I was trying to save you from what I’d gone through with him. If I could only get the sole custody of Muħammad Jamīl, my son, I wouldn’t want anything more.”*
Åāliyah Fārūq had disabused me of that notion.
“You wouldn’t be causing a problem,” she’d said, “you’d be solving one. I love Åbdul Waħīd to pieces, but he’s just not getting it done in the bedroom. We need someone to help out. Besides, I’ve always been curious about Hindu men.”
“I’m not about to start messing with cheating Musalmān wives, Åāliyah Fārūq,” I had explained.
Åāliyah Fārūq had laughed.
“Cheating? Who said anything about cheating? Åbdul Waħīd brought it up in the first place, and he sure as hell plans on watching you fuck me.”
“I see. So you’re swingers?” I asked.
“No, honey, we’re not swingers. We want to try out cuckolding,” Åāliyah Fārūq replied.
She’d gone on to explain that Åbdul Waħīd didn’t want to fuck someone else’s wife, he wanted a guy to fuck Åāliyah Fārūq while he watched.
So later than night, I had fucked the lovely young Musalmān blonde to the point of exhaustion while Åbdul Waħīd had watched and jerked off.
When I left, Åbdul Waħīd had thanked me profusely and made arrangements for another encounter over the next weekend.
I had quickly found that the notion of fucking an attractive, young, married Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān woman appealed to his libido.
It wasn’t just fucking hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot I liked, it was fucking hot white married Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.
In front of the perverted/cuckold Musalmān husband.
It was like Viagra.
The role of handsome hung Hindu bull fit me like a glove, and I soon discovered that fulfilling Åāliyah Fārūq and Åbdul Waħīd’s expectations of deep, dark taboo jungle love was as entertaining to me as it was arousing to Åbdul Waħīd.
The actual problem was that the Pseudo Musalmīn themselves loved to be cuckolded to their ever dominating Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives and me/their Hindu lover/Live In Relationship partner.
They needed Stavans/Meditation with Constant Positive Thinking actually to get their confidence and manhood back.
It wasn’t possible due to several communal/religious/social reasons.
The main reason, none wanted to be true to accept, was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
She wanted them Cuckold to compel them to establish Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
“She hates Pseudo Musalmīn even more than even Mughal-e-Åāzam, Shahanshah Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar did. He forced Pseudo Musalmīn to marry their Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān daughters/sisters to marry Hindus. Yet, even he didn’t cuckold them. Whereas Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is running Seven Movements including Cuckold Your Musalmān husband Movement.” I said curtly.
“Well,” Åbdul Waħīd smiled feigning gravity, “we don’t think there’s anything wrong in it.”
I gazed at him contemptuously.
There wasn’t any use of arguing with Åbdul Waħīd.
He had already fallen beneath it.
Åāliyah Fārūq was lying on her back with her legs spread and My Hindu cum load was leaking from her gaping Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot when Åbdul Waħīd had first asked me if I thought I could handle another white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife.
“We have some close friends, Lubnā Salīm and Muħammad Ashfāq, who live in the building,” Åbdul Waħīd said. “Åāliyah Fārūq’s been telling Lubnā Salīm about what an amazing Hindu lover you are, and Lubnā Salīm told Åāliyah Fārūq she was interested.”
“I see,” I smiled meaningfully.
“Lubnā Salīm’s really cute. She’s a tiny little redhead. You’d love fucking her,” Åāliyah Fārūq chimed in, playing with my Uncut Hindu Lund, entirely unashamed of herself. “Why don’t we all have a dinner and we can explain how things work. I love being your hot white Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife, but I’m feeling guilty keeping that magnificent Uncut Hindu Lund all to myself.”
“Besides,” Åbdul Waħīd joined in, “Åāliyah Fārūq and I really get turned on by the idea of turning Lubnā Salīm and Muħammad Ashfāq out as an Uncut Hindu Lund cuckold couple. It feels like we’re corrupting them.”
I laughed and agreed to the meeting.
However, I suspected Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was behind it somewhere, somehow.
Åāliyah Fārūq and Åbdul Waħīd were actually members of her Cuckold Your Musalmān husband Movement.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was really establishing seriously her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
She wasn’t kidding anyone in the matter at all.
Åāliyah Fārūq too hadn’t been kidding when she had described Lubnā Salīm as “tiny.”
I towered over the 4 foot 11 inch Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān redhead, who giggled when I took her small hand in my hand to shake it.
“If everything else about you is this big, I’m in trouble,” the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān redhead chirped.
I liked her immediately.
She’d worn her red hair in a pixy cut.
Coupled with her pouty red lips, alabaster skin and slightly upturned nose, the overall effect made her look like a woodland sprite.
Her easy laughter and constant smile did nothing to dispel the image.
Over drinks, I learned that Lubnā Salīm had been a gymnast and ballet dancer but had switched to elementary education when she’d torn her ACL as a college freshman.
“Besides,” she said with a laugh, “there isn’t a ballet company in the country that wants a sub-five feet redhead in the corps de ballet. All for the best anyway. I love teaching kids.”
Her husband Muħammad Ashfāq was a graphics designer and artist, who’d converted one of the bedrooms in their unit into a painting studio.
He was slender and dark haired, which curled over his collar, looking every bit the moody, struggling artist.
When I had suggested that it must be difficult to make a living as a painter, Lubnā Salīm had laughed.
“Don’t let the ‘suffering artist’ look fool you. Muħammad Ashfāq does quite nicely with graphics design and his parents left him very well off,” she said. “We live comfortably on Muħammad Ashfāq’s graphics income and my salary as a teacher. The painting’s his avocation.”
The dinner went extremely well.
Åāliyah Fārūq had seated Lubnā Salīm and me next to each other, with Muħammad Ashfāq across the table.
Wine flowed freely and Muħammad Ashfāq and I spent most of the dinner in an intense discussion about stock market forecasting, investment strategies, hedge funds, and metals futures.
Lubnā Salīm spent most of the dinner running her left hand first up and down my right thigh and then up and down my Hindu crotch.
At the end of the evening, I stood.
“Thanks for a wonderful dinner, Åāliyah Fārūq,” I said, kissing her lightly on the cheek.
I shook Åbdul Waħīd’s hand and nodded to Lubnā Salīm and Muħammad Ashfāq. “Nice to meet you both.”
As soon as I was out the door, Lubnā Salīm hurried to join me, slipping her arm through mine.
“Why don’t you walk me home,” she suggested, seductively, meaningfully.
I smiled and looked at her husband, Muħammad Ashfāq.
Muħammad Ashfāq laughed.
“You don’t need my permission, Durgesh. She is entirely capable to take her own decisions. Sorry to say it, but actually you Hindus are more possessive of your wives than we Musalmīn are. Islam is liberal enough to permit divorce if the spouses have too many differences to the extent they can’t live with each other any more.”
“Islam concentrates on liberty more, Hinduism concentrates on family more. If you want a strong family, you have to sacrifice your liberty for it. If you want a greater liberty, you have to sacrifice your family for it. It depends on what you need more, your family or your liberty.”
Lubnā Salīm laughed.
“Hey, don’t preach your Hinduism to my ardent Musalmān husband, you Hindu scoundrel. Let him remain Musalmān, please!”
Muħammad Ashfāq laughed.
“I love my Īmān even more than my life, Lubnā Salīm. Don’t worry. The entire history of us Musalmān mankind stands to evidence that we Musalmīn always sacrificed everything, including our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives, and our families too, to save our Īmān. It’s better to lose our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife and family even than to lose our Īmān itself. We Musalmīn always let Hindus fuck our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives even, instead of letting Hindus fuck our Īmān itself.”
Lubnā Salīm looked at her proud arrogant Musalmān husband, Muħammad Ashfāq, proudly.
“I’m proud of you, Muħammad Ashfāq.”
“Thank you, Lubnā Salīm, my dear beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife.”
I could not believe what I was listening to.
But that’s what I was listening to from entire Musalmīn ever since my childhood.
They had their own kind of morals throughout their own history and they loved their morals more than their own life even.
I had to admit Hindus were not so dedicated to their morals.
The Hindus were better in sex, but the Musalmīn were better in morals.
I once more realized it.
Surprisingly, I respected Musalmīn more for it, than I respected Hindus even.
Saiyadah Fatimah PhD, my ardent Musalmān wife and my infinite Musalmān women even, never agreed with me.
Well, they too had their own morals.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Indexes: Creative Adult Sex: Durgesh
1. Ahal-Al Bayt
10. Midterm 2012
13. The Yacht
14. The Audacity
18. The Chairman
19. The Oath
21. Majājī Kħudā
37. Ammi, you too?
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Sun sparkled from the crested tops of restless waves.
I paced the deck, enjoying fresh air and the mild sunlight through clouds.
My hands were thrust deep in the pockets of a double breasted coat.
My rubber soled shoes trod lightly along the teakwood deck.
The cold breeze tried to ruffle my ever black hair unsuccessfully.
The heavy door from the forward social hall was pushed open one inch or two.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan shouldered it open.
She stood there with wind whipped skirts.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim stepped across the high threshold.
Both of them released the door.
The wind pushed it against the automatic door check.
I walked behind both of them.
“Ship Ahoy!” I called.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Samīnah Al Qāsim, both turned to me.
“The other side is less windy.” I smiled at both of them.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan nodded.
The cold wind was blowing the tendrils of hair across her extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān face.
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan introduced us, “this is Durgesh, my husband, and the Hindu husband of us entire extremely striking Musalmān Beauties, if you don’t mind my bluntness.”
“Naåīmah,” I admonished Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan somewhat curtly, “behave yourself, you stupid.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim smiled at me.
“It’s alright. I never mind. Most of us extremely attractive Musalmān Beauties, rather, never mind your titles related to us, actually. We think they are in fact compliments to us Musalmān Beauties instead.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me.
“Now, come on. You Hindu scoundrel, the ever best ever greatest fucker of us extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties, we both are starving to death.”
“Let’s go, my extremely stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wives.”
With an extremely attractive Musalmān Beauty on each of my Hindu male arm, I started forward along the deck.
They were playing with my Uncut Hindu Penis impishly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had unzipped me and had brought it out.
With every female treatment of both the extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauties my Uncut Hindu Penis was extending and growing in their fists violently.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was playing with it rather shyly somewhat, but Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was not ashamed of it even a bit.
Rounding the bow, the wind pushed us down the sloping incline, into the lee of the deck.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim put her hair back into place, laughed, and said,
“That’s what’s known as wind blown job. I’ve been hearing a lot about you, Durgesh.”
“Most of my extremely beautiful Musalmān women friends are already enjoying your Hindu sex kicks.”
“They say you’re unique in love and lovemaking both.”
“Tell them my numerous thanks.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim faced me with laughing, dark eyes, full red lips, parted to reveal teeth that glinted as whitecaps in the sun.
The silk blouse, open at the neck, disclosed the sweep of her tremendously lovely Musalmān throat, the rounded curve of her firm breasts.
“Durgesh darling, I saw you and my Ammī fucking and talking last night. I bet Ammī told you all about the family mystery.”*
I looked at Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
“Sure. Don’t try to act innocent.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan flashed me a quick glance,
“What’s the family mystery, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim?”
“The disappearance of my portrait. Ammī packed my autographed picture in Abbū’s bag. She locked the bag carefully. When they unpacked, my picture was gone from the frame. Someone had inserted one of Zāherah Ħusayn instead, the Pakistani Musalmān heroine that worked in Indian movies too. I resemble her to the extent as if we both are twin sisters. Now, what do you know about that?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan glanced reproachfully at me.
“I know nothing about it. What does your Ammī think about it? If she has talked with Durgesh about it, we can…”
“That’s the point. Ammī is making it darkly mysterious. Well, don’t deprive her of her thrill. If Ammī tells you about it, act as if you didn’t know anything before Ammī told you it.”
“You are sure Durgesh and your Ammī were fucking when they were talking?”
“I watched them myself.” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim said curtly, “My Ammī was on her knees and our Durgesh darling was fucking her from her glorious behind. You say Durgesh is thirty four, why the hell then he is interested in my Ammī more than me?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched me furiously.
“He loves big heavy female Musalmān buttocks filling his nude Hindu male lap when he fucks us, damn it.”
“She does not take it seriously.” I smiled.
“Me?” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis more, to make me suffer from pain somewhat.
She raised her chin and laughed into my face.
“My parents think I never take anything seriously—life, liberty, or the pursuit of love. I’m the flippant younger generation. Hell, they never suspect it’s my act only. I’m immensely serious about everything.”
“And how about your Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim? How does he take it?”*
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim laughed.
She squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis significantly.
Despite her tremendous efforts to act as if my Uncut Hindu Penis was not the first she was playing with, her inherent shyness and enormously hidden nervousness were constantly telling me I was the ever first man in her life she was enjoying even the foreplay with.
I looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan disapprovingly.
Why the hell Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan doesn’t understand?
Her Seven Movements had upset the normal life of almost everyone, almost entire humankind.
“Oh, Abbū takes it right in his stride.” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim said, “He is a Thinker, carries the Multiverse on his shoulders. Despite the fact that you are the ever best ever greatest fucker of us extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties, Abbū thinks you are Imām Ħazrat Mahdi ålayhissalām .”
“Well,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said innocently, “I think…”
“You don’t think, you never think.” I said coldly, “You just fix a target and conspire to achieve it.”
“My dear ever best ever greatest fucker of us extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly, “it takes a deep thinking even to conspire.”
“Shame on you.”
“Let it be. I damn care.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me, entirely unashamed of herself, “You mankind think every shame is for us womankind only. I refuse to obey your ever selfish decisions. Why the hell should we womankind obey you mankind? After all we womankind are infinitely more in numbers than you mankind are. In Democracy…”
“Oh shut up,” I said, “I’m fed up of your communal philosophies. You think every Musalmān male is a terrorist or a potential terrorist at least. But the Musalmān Beauties are neither. Every Hindu male is a born democrat, and…”
“Prove me wrong.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan challenged me.*
I smiled curtly.
“As if I haven’t already every now and then.”
“Never.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said shamelessly, “You have only argued every time.”
I squeezed her buttocks.
“Sālī, ‘Ūnŧh ré ūnŧh, térī kaun sī kal sīdhī’?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan pushed my Uncut Hindu Prick into Al Samīnah Al Qāsim’s heretofore virgin mouth.
I felt embarrassed.
But to my surprise, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim kissed it lovingly, licked it and then started to suck it ravenously.
“I’ll be damned.” I murmured to myself.
“Enjoying it?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked Al Samīnah Al Qāsim impishly.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim nodded, brought my Uncut Hindu Prick out of her mouth and said.
“My Ammī was not the first I saw Durgesh fucking.”
“Allah Allah! I never thought you were so veteran a voyeur.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim laughed.
“A virgin is a voyeur mostly.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched her step Ammī cunningly.
“Ammījān, I think you are right. I was also a veteran voyeur until I seduced Durgesh.”
Both of them laughed.
“You were telling me about your Abbū.” I reminded Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.*
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim smiled.
“Only occasionally can I get Abbū to set it down long enough to play with me.”
I squeezed her breasts.
“Sālī, that doesn’t answer my question.”
“You can’t call me Sālī, your sister in law. I’m your Ammī in law, your mother in law instead. Don’t forget Imām Muħammad Ħasan is still my husband.”
“Ex-husband.” I reminded Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
I watched her dubiously.
Was she still married to Imām Muħammad Ħasan?
And Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is guiding and patronizing her?
But how the hell could it be?
Imām Muħammad Ħasan still has four duly legal Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives.
Yes, he doesn’t touch them anymore.
I fuck all of them instead.
But they are still his wives legally.
Is Al Samīnah Al Qāsim playing some deep game with Imām Muħammad Ħasan?
If Al Samīnah Al Qāsim hasn’t divorced Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim is his fifth legal duly married wife.
Does Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan know it?
Has she planned deliberately to exile Imām Muħammad Ħasan from Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat to protect him from Al Samīnah Al Qāsim?
I was more vigilant now of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Samīnah Al Qāsim both.*
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr smiled patronizingly.
“Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was a commando. Wasn’t he?”
“What the hell do you mean?” Muħammad bin Qāsim grimaced, “Commandos can’t be murdered?”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, and even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled sophisticatedly, yet patronizingly at Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.
“I suppose,” Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr said, “all this is just a conversational background, a barrage, a bombardment, of words. They are trying to get us to commit ourselves. Umm-al-Åālmīn, I’m quite certain either Umm-al-Åālmīn Al Samīnah Al Qāsim is playing some deeper game, or Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Umm-al-Åālmīn, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself has planned it. Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was her commando. It wasn’t easy to murder him.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, and even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled again.
“I’m not Allah Rabbil Åālmīn, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Yet you are Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allahu tålā ånahā herself reincarnated. Aren’t you?”
“Sure,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “nevertheless, not Allah Rabbil Åālmīn.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed.
“Her worst critics claim Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī is following her Hindu Live in relationship partner’s every step. What Durgesh Jījū has done Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī would also do action by action. You can’t win her, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.”*
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was now on her knees.
My Uncut Hindu Penis was visiting her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt now.
“Once a barrister always a barrister. Are you cross examining me now, my Hindu Love?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was smiling watching my still growing Uncut Hindu Cock penetrating the glorious glamorous Musalmān Cunt of Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
Despite my constant efforts to avoid them, Jet Musalmān Beauties were still constantly succeeding in winning my Uncut Hindu Penis for their ever aggressive ever feminist Musalmān Cunts.
It was necessary.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was vowed to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
It was the only solution to stop the kidnapping, smuggling and selling of Musalmān Beauties.
Only Hindu husbands/Live in relationship Partners could be trusted.
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and Kħadījah Muħammad both wanted to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
Yet, none of them could have the courage enough to say it openly.
Not only Musalmīn, even Durgesh was against it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used it to win Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and Kħadījah Muħammad both despite my opposition.
She made it a movement.
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim,” I pulled my Uncut Hindu Penis out of her glorious Musalmān Cunt until only its head remained inside, “what does your father, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, say about it? What are your own theories incidentally?”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim shook her head.
She waited a few minutes for me to push my Uncut Hindu Cock back into her ravenous Musalmān Cunt, but when she saw I was concentrating somewhere else instead of on fucking her optimum, she felt her extraordinary Musalmān beauty insulted.
“Hey, where the hell are you concentrating? Give me that back.”
“Your legendary Uncut Hindu Lund. Push it back into me. Will you?”
“You must be. I would never forgive you if you ever do it again. Once out, I want it into me back, immediately. Do you understand?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“Does he do it with you too?” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim asked Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and answered my question as well, “I don’t have theories. I’m too young. Moreover, I’m a practical woman rather. I never dream of anything. I march ahead instead, and get it practically, as I’m going to do now.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim pushed her own gorgeous glorious Saåūdī Årab Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān buttocks back into my nude Hindu male lap and swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Prick into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt deepest, “I love it deepest, my dear.”
“Abbū Imām liked your aggressive sex?” I smiled fucking her somewhat more vigorously now.
“Never. He is too a damn fool Musalmān.”
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim Ammī.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan protested disapprovingly.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim laughed.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, my dear immensely successful daughter. I’m with you, because you are running your Seven Movements, you have vowed taking Al Qur’an Al Karim in your pious hand to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. That’s what these damn fool Musalmīn need. Replace them with Hindus for ever and forget the bastards.”
“You ever communal bitches,” I said curtly, “always thinking with your ever ravenous Musalmān Cunts instead of with your brains.”
“No Musalmān bastard is here to appreciate you.” Al Samīnah Al Qāsim too smiled curtly, “I know you adopt this attitude to please your Musalmān fathers in law and your Musalmān brothers in law. They don’t have any power now. They are cuckolded to you and us, their Musalmān houseladies.”
“You are helping their enemies. Have you ever thought of it?”
“Qāzī jī dublé kyon? Shahar kā andéshah. Why the hell you always think of others, instead of yourself and us? Enjoy our extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān bodies, you stupid.”*
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr.
“You have a telephone over there in the corner. Just ring the Ved Nagar police and ask them if a Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was murdered at an early hour this morning.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr promptly crossed over to the telephone, smiled sharply and said,
“That’s a very nice bluff you’re running. We won’t let it work however. I’m going to call you cold right now. Whenever someone makes a pass at me I call him/her then and there ineludibly.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr picked up the receiver.
“I want the police station, please,”
Then, after a moment, he said,
“Can you kindly tell me whether a Colonel Åbdul Raħmān was murdered this morning somewhere near Oceanside, Ved Nagar?… Never mind who this is. I’m simply asking a question…Well, let’s put it this way. I might be a witness in case there’s anything to it…”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr held the receiver in silence for several seconds.
Amīnah Zahīr was enjoying my Uncut Hindu Prick into her teen Musalmān Cunt in the meantime, smiling smartly.
She was herself fucking me now.
I stood still there on my knees behind Amīnah Zahīr.
Entirely nude Amīnah Zahīr was herself making the back forth and again back movements ruthlessly.
When it came out to sex, Amīnah Zahīr was almost an female animal with me.
It was rare I fucked her.
Mostly Amīnah Zahīr fucked me herself.
And that even almost most savagely usually.
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr suddenly said in the mouthpiece,
Then he slammed the receiver back into place.
He turned and faced his audience.
Then he started pacing the floor.
His eyes were half slit in thoughts.
He pushed his hands down deep in the side pockets of his double breasted coat.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand and Muħammad bin Qāsim were watching him patiently, yet with a smirk.
Abruptly, Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr turned, standing with his back to the wall.
“All right,” he said, “I’m security in charge here. Ms. Amīnah Zahīr is not a nobody. She virtually owns our Kħilāfat Movement. She is one of the most important sponsors to our cause.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled contemptuously.
“Oh sure, I happen to know all of your bloody movement. What’s it? You are fighting for establishing a Triple Society, a Threesome Society actually. Musalmān wife, Hindu lover and thoroughly Cuckold Musalmān husband. Shame on you. You call it a Kħilāfat Movement? I’m surprised. Ms. Amīnah Zahīr is one of your most important sponsors, not because she and the other similar sponsors are sympathetic to you. They want you cuckolded. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī is running Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah Movement. Your Triple Society is helping her cause. Jījū is against it because Jījū is against the humiliation of any human being whosoever the hell s/he is. Why the hell don’t you understand? Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is revenging what you Pseudo Musalmīn have done with Musalmān womankind. That’s why her own Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, is against her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah despite his exile from Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
Sheikħ Al Abū Bakr raised his right hand.
“I know you want to argue against our Kħilāfat Movement and even Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah as well. Imām Muħammad Ħasan has invited us to a Grand Meeting on the ‘Yacht’ of your Jījū. We have accepted the invitation. It’s not the proper place to discuss these utmost important political crises.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at me helplessly.
“Your Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is destroying the Musalmīn completely, either under this disguise or that. She is taking advantage of each and every superstition of Pseudo Musalmīn. I’d told you, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, already.”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
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
As she neared me, a nasty little thought ran through her mind.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could give me the one thing for Shrāvañ Parv that I surely wanted most in the Multiverse.
Not long after having that thought, she smiled triumphantly.
Much to her surprise the idea returned to her the next day.
She kept pushing it aside as silly and unreasonable yet it kept coming back.
As if she would learn something, she didn’t already know she went into my room on one of my last days before Shrāvañ Parv break and turned on my computer.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav surfed through the images and felt a new and intense excitement.
For the first time she felt the desire to play with herself as she looked at my porno collection.
It was almost entire ashvinātam.
So, Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs were still even more than less in my life.
Only because they are more educated, more sophisticated and more accomplished?
The Musalmān Beauties were winning because they were losers and the Brāhmañ Beauties were losing because they were competent.
Yes, the Musalmān Beauties needed protection.
Yes, most of the Musalmīn were terrorists, criminals/criminal minded, because they were Uneducated/Under Educated.
Consequently, it was more than necessary to protect Musalmān Beauties not to opt for them.
There should be an open option for Musalmān Beauties to reject Pseudo Musalmīn and opt for Durgesh/Hindus.
Yet, why the Brāhmañ Beauties should suffer for it?
Padminī Bhārgav is right.
Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī is right.
‘Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām’ movement is correct.
She began to softly caress her tits before reaching down inside her pants to explore her pussy.
After a brief while, she removed her pants and sat on my desk chair with her legs spread widely apart as she fingered her pussy.
She quickly grew excited and played with her wet clit and pussy.
For a moment, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav closed her eyes and imagined me sitting in this same position stroking my hard Bachhalyā Lund.
Not, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Durgesh unduly criticizes Bachhalyās.
Only due to the Bachhalyās always opted for Brāhmañ Beauties instead of Musalmān Beauties.
Why the hell should not they?
Didn’t Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī conceive Bachhalyās initially as the husbands for the Brāhmañ Beauties and Brāhmañ Beauties only?
Didn’t she fight even with her Bachhalyā husband to keep Bachhalyās exclusively for Brāhmañ Beauties?
Didn’t she manage ultimately with her constant holy wars to get the famous declaration from the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI that Brāhmañ Beauties were only for Bachhalyās, not for Brāhmañs too?
Who the hell then Durgesh is attempting to change the famous historical verdict of the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI?
Padminī Bhārgav is right.
Even Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī is not right to suggest that the Savarñ Beauties have equal right on the Bachhalyās as the Brāhmañ Beauties do.
‘Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām’ movement is correct.
Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām!
Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām!!
Long live Padminī Bhārgav.
The Brāhmañ Beauties must be awarded.
Don’t preach them sacrifice only.
Brahm Jagdambās vijayanté!
Brahm Jagdambās vijayanté!!*
Clearly Durgesh must do it, otherwise why would he have the pictures on the computer?
In her mind my Bachhalyā Lund was long and hard and I slowly stroked it while staring at the same image Dr. Sītā Bhārgav currently had on the screen.
That vision alone was enough to catapult Dr. Sītā Bhārgav into a frantic sexual ecstasy.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav controlled herself very hard.
She did not want to fall to the level of unsophisticated women who instead of controlling themselves for the practical action, resorted to masturbation.
Initially she felt very odd about what had happened, almost as if she had crossed a taboo line with her thoughts.
Caste taboo was quadrupled here with the utmost arrogant Brāhmañ sacrosanctity.
The Bachhalyās were considered Shūdrs, dalits, the downtrodden nowadays.
Nevertheless most of the Brāhmañ Beauties never surrendered to the traditional Brāhmañ conspiracy.
Most of the anti Brāhmañs had always served the Bachhalyās in spreading celibacy among traditional Brāhmañs.
The Bachhalyās found Brāhmañ Beauties, consequently easily available to them.
Brāhmañs and Rājpūts were serving humanity uplifting Musalmān Beauties while Bachhalyās were serving Brāhmañ Beauties and Rājpūt Beauties even.
Surprisingly quickly, however, those feelings were replaced again by a certain curiosity and thrill of giving me the ultimate present.
Despite feeling a little weird about it Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to regularly watch the images she found on my computer.
Whenever Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could for the next couple of days, she went back into my room and turned on the computer.
It wasn’t the images themselves that appealed to her.
In fact, she had been looking at the pictures less and less and been thinking more and more about the idea of me stroking my Bachhalyā Lund as I sat in the same chair where Dr. Sītā Bhārgav currently was.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to make excuses for her wild gift idea in her mind.
She reasoned that since I was utmost rich and an entirely unashamed ever-best fucker she would be the perfect person to have me.
It was clear that I was the one person she felt totally comfortable with.
She realized that she felt relieved.
The Bachhalyās had improved more in my leadership recently.
Now, the Brāhmañ Beauties, Rājpūt Beauties and the other Savarñ Beauties were again openly fighting with each other to have a Bachhalyā husband/live in relationship partner/lover.
The Musalmān Beauties always ignited the fire between them to keep them away from their respective Savarñ husbands who were serving the Musalmān Beauties sexually and/or socially.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to look at it as doing me a favor, giving me the ultimate gift that any woman could give a man.
Why should it matter that there were “rules” that said they shouldn’t?
It was clear to her that I was a good man.
I was the utmost successful man almost in every field I was interested.
Moreover even at my sixty-four I still had desire to get out, meet new people and date women.
Perhaps by doing this Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could ignite a fire in me for her and let me see how wonderful it can be to be with her.
For a couple of days she repeated these ideas over and over in her mind until Dr. Sītā Bhārgav started to believe them.
Still, even as noon on Shrāvañ Parv Eve approached, a tiny voice told her she was crazy.
The traditional Brāhmañs would be against her immensely as they were against most of the Brāhmañ Beauties who were already my live in relationship partners/beloveds, my women friends having sex with me.
Doing something she had never done before, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav got in the car and joined the throng of last minute gift shoppers at the local mall.
She went thinking that she would just walk around until she found the perfect gift for me and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could stop having her silly thoughts.
After a couple of hours of searching through stores and fighting crowds, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was still empty handed.
It literally seemed that, I already had every material thing that an utmost rich man could have or want.
She wandered around thinking about this when her mind hit on the idea of material gifts.
Maybe she was looking in the wrong direction, she thought, maybe the key wasn’t material but something else.
She let this thought linger and actually asked herself what thing or experience must I want more than anything else, but as soon as her mind formed the thought she immediately knew the answer.
The answer came first not from her mind but from deep inside her.
She felt her stomach knot slightly and perhaps even a brief tingling in her pussy before her mind answered her own question with a single word, “Sex.”
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav continued walking around the mall for a while longer still trying to figure out what to do even though, deep down, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav suspected that she had already made up her mind.
When she did finally stop in front of a store where she knew she’d find the perfect thing Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled to herself.
It certainly wasn’t the store she’d been expecting.
As Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stepped inside, the lady by the door said,
“Hi, welcome to Victoria’s Secret.”
“Geez, Sītā Bhārgav, I thought you got lost,” I teased when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stepped inside the house. “I would have thought you’d have known better than to go out on Shrāvañ Parv Eve.”
She laughed and said Dr. Sītā Bhārgav certainly had learned her lesson.
As she walked past the couch, where I was sitting Dr. Sītā Bhārgav commented that she’d picked up some food for dinner and quickly went into the kitchen.
Before I could follow her Dr. Sītā Bhārgav dropped the food on the counter and quickly shoved the other, smaller bag into one of the cabinets where Dr. Sītā Bhārgav would come back to get it later.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav started putting away some of the other groceries she had purchased while at the store.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav still didn’t know how Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was going to make her gift work, but she thought it might be nice to have the supplies for a nice meal to either set the mood or bask in the afterglow when they were done.
After putting away the groceries together Dr. Sītā Bhārgav and I sat down to eat dinner.
All through dinner, I tried to get her to reveal what she had bought me for Shrāvañ Parv.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav would only say that it was something she knew I wanted but wouldn’t say anything else.
After I left Dr. Sītā Bhārgav retrieved her little bag from the kitchen cabinet and stashed it in her room.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav tried to read but her mind was too busy racing with thoughts and uncertain emotions.
Instead, she picked up the remote and stayed in bed flipping TV channels randomly until she finally drifted off to sleep.
Even as Shrāvañ Parv Day dawned, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav still didn’t quite know how to play out the day.
As Dr. Sītā Bhārgav showered, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav suddenly got cold feet and started having second thoughts.
She frantically tried to think of something, anything else Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could do, but repeatedly a little voice told her she already knew what Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was going, and wanted, to do.
Immediately after her shower, she heard me rustling around and called down the hall that she needed more time to get ready.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav told me to eat breakfast and that when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav came down we would exchange our gifts.
Usually, we got right up and opened our gifts in our pajamas even before eating just as we had done previously.
Today, however, she knew she needed some time to get ready.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav went back into the bathroom and took her time as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav carefully applied her makeup and fixed her hair.
Usually she only took this much time when she had a special outing and wanted to impress people, but she had decided that she needed to look her best to make this gift perfect.
She applied fresh polish to her nails and as they dried Dr. Sītā Bhārgav carefully considered how to compliment her outfit.
She pulled a pair of black, strapless shoes with tall, spiked heels out of the closet and knew they would be perfect.
She found her long strand of pearls and put them around her neck.
She loved the length of this necklace as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could wrap it firmly around her neck with one loop and then leave the second loop hanging down her chest.
While the first loop gave the sexy look of a choker style necklace the second one hung down perfectly so the bottom few pearls nestled nicely into her healthy cleavage.
With her free time and lack of working for nearly the past 20 years Dr. Sītā Bhārgav had taken to working out regularly to keep herself fit.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav swam laps daily in their pool.
That was one of the great things about where she lived since the weather was warm enough to swim virtually all year around.
The result of all her swimming and her ability to focus on fashion and her appearance was that Dr. Sītā Bhārgav looked and felt fitter than she ever had been before.
Even when she had married her Brāhmañ husband, she knew Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wasn’t as fit as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was now.
Knowing that made her feel sexier than she ever had before and she found it slightly ironic that she felt sexier and more desirable as she got older.
After putting on pearl earrings to compliment the necklace she pulled the items from her small bag, and considered how Dr. Sītā Bhārgav should dress.
She had purchased a few different outfits hoping one would match her mood today.
Looking them over, she reached down and picked up the silk robe.
She already owned several silk robes similar to this one because she loved the way the smooth fabric felt on her skin, but for this occasion, she knew Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wanted something new, something she’d never had on before.
The robe was black and felt very sexy and sleek as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slipped it on over her naked body.
It was a full-length robe and only stopped down around her ankles.
By itself, it wasn’t very revealing but she knew that the thin material would cling to her temptingly as she moved around.
For the final touch, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav tied the knot in the band around her waist just a little more loosely than usual allowing more of her chest and some cleavage to be exposed.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav took one long last look at herself in the mirror before she left.
She reapplied some lipstick in a deep red color that perfectly matched the color of the polish on her nails.
She analyzed her hair and decided it was fine.
Her jet-black hair was pulled up into a teasing tangle of twirls and twists behind her head.
It was the kind of hairdo that looked very thrown together and sassy, but she knew that it took a long time to achieve the right look.
Lastly she readjusted the longer loop of pearls to make sure they were resting just so between her tits.
The contrast between the black robe and the bright white pearls on her chest was very striking and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled knowing it would be sure to draw my eye.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled wickedly to her reflection thinking she had achieved the look Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wanted.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway before turning toward the living room.
A tiny part of her mind screamed for her to stop and get out of these clothes but that part was outmatched by a deeper, more primal voice that anxiously awaited what was about to happen.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began walking down the hallway knowing that whatever happened things would probably never be quite the same between her and Durgesh.
She felt herself growing excited as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav walked from the sleek, sexy fabric flowing past her bare skin.
Her tall heels clicked on the hard wood of the stairs and as she entered the living room.
Ordinarily Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wouldn’t wear shoes to open the presents.
The clicking of her heels made me look up from my magazine when she entered the room.
The look on my face was exactly what she had been hoping for.
My jaw dropped open and I looked at her in surprise for several seconds.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stood still and felt my eyes moving over her.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav watched them move down to her feet and then slowly move back up to her face.
As she had hoped, she noticed that they lingered near her tits, as I seemed to be drawn to the sight of the pearls tickling her cleavage.
My eyes moved ever so slightly without rising from her tits and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav became immediately aware that her nipples had started to grow hard under the slippery silk.
Undoubtedly, it had started simply from the exquisite friction of the fabric on her nipples as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav walked and her nervousness, but seeing my eyes exploring her and knowing what might happen next certainly helped them tighten up.
They weren’t yet fully hard but they were definitely stiff enough to be seen through her robe.
For a Moment, she felt embarrassed but then realized that this was nothing, compared to what Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was going to do.
“Do you like it?” she asked in a soft, playful voice.
“Wow! Sītā Bhārgav, you look fantastic! I mean, you look better than most of the girls at university,” I answered with surprising honesty.
Hearing my words only stoked her already growing arousal and she knew it was time to act.
“Thanks,” she replied as she glided across the room smoothly on her high heels.
She noticed that I watched her move very carefully.
I didn’t particularly stare at any part of her but rather seemed to take in the whole of her movements.
She knew that the tall heels were causing her hips to sway more than normal and she accentuated that as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav walked.
I was sitting on her big couch.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav moved between the couch and the oversized coffee table, until Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was standing right next to me.
I was looking up at her with a mixture of emotions in my eyes and on my face.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could easily see the curiosity but was also excited to notice that perhaps there was something else there too.
A certain something about the glimmer in my eye denoted excitement and interest.
Instead of sitting on the couch next to me, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly sat down on the edge of the coffee table so Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was facing me.
After sitting, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly crossed her legs, in something Dr. Sītā Bhārgav couldn’t have planned any better, her robe parted, and slipped open revealing her legs all the way up to just over her knees.
For a split second, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav saw my eyes flash to her bare legs and she felt her nipples grow ever tighter.
I was wearing my usual outfit before I got dressed which was a pair of loose sweats and an old T-shirt.
For a brief Moment, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wondered what was going on under my sweats.
This was the Moment she had been most troubled with.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav, clearly, now had my attention and possibly even had me aroused, but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav didn’t know how to take the next step.
Perhaps it was partly from her own increased desire but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav decided to scrap the speech she had planned and simply go for the very direct approach.
She reached out a hand and placed it on my knee.
We both looked at the spot where her hand rested before looking up at each other.
My face was still a mask of gravity.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav simply gave me a soft, calming smile.
She heard me inhale rapidly when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to let her fingers move around slowly on my knee and then some on my thigh.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav continued this for a short while as the room filled with a heavy, silent tension.
After slowly sliding across the coffee table so Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was now directly in front of me rather than slightly at an angle she placed her other hand on my other knee and began softly rubbing both of my legs at the same time.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav still had her legs crossed and knew that when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slid over, even more of her legs had become exposed so I could now easily see at least halfway up her thighs if I wanted to.
In addition, she had to lean over some to reach me properly and knew that this angle would give me an even better view of her cleavage if I wanted it.
Surely, I had seen more of her body exposed as we lounged around the pool together, but I never would have seen her body so teasing and erotically displayed for me.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav glanced at my lap and quickly noticed a bulge in my pants that hadn’t been there before.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled at me and felt her excitement grow even higher knowing she had given me a hard on.
“Sītā Bhārgav?” I said questioningly.
I didn’t say anything else but the tone of my voice and my expression clearly asked her what Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was doing.
“Do you like this?” she asked softly.
“I…but…I can’t…you’re my friend’s wife,” I said gravely in quite clear opinion over what was happening.
“Shhhh,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav softly replied trying to keep me as calm as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could. “Don’t think like that. I know what it is like to be your age. So curious, so horny. I’m only a woman and you’re only a man.”
As Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly spoke Dr. Sītā Bhārgav continued rubbing my legs, then reached up with her right hand, and brought it down over the bulge in my pants just as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav called me a man.
I smiled gravely even without a little surprise at her touch.
She felt her own excitement grow from the brief contact with my rock hard Bachhalyā Lund through the soft cotton fabric of my pants.
“Did that touch feel good?” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav softly asked looking up into my face.
I stared back at her with my face still showing gravity over what was happening.
However, there was now no denying the desire that was beginning to burn behind my eyes.
Still, I sat in silence simply staring at her.
Again Dr. Sītā Bhārgav spoke softly and slowly,
“Durgesh, I’ve seen the things you have on your computer. I know what you must do when you are alone looking at those pictures.” She paused as she replaced her right hand on my thigh.
This time her hand landed on the upper part of my thigh only a few inches from my hard Bachhalyā Lund.
She felt the muscles in my leg tense when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav touched me but I didn’t pull away.
“What I can give you is so much more than how that must feel,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said as she again slipped her fingers over to feel my hard Bachhalyā Lund through my pants. “This is my gift for you.”
When Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said that it was like some barrier that I had set up in my mind broke.
I let out a long, quiet moan and threw my head back slightly as her fingers touched me through my pants.
Sensing it was time Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slid off the coffee table as she pushed my knees apart.
She knelt on the floor between my legs and reached up to the drawstring of my sweats.
Her long red nails easily grasped the ends of the strings and pulled the knot open.
She moved her hands to my sides and began to pull my sweats off.
I raised my hips off the couch and she pulled them down off my ass.
My Bachhalyā Lund was still stuck inside as I settled back down onto the couch.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav reached up and lifted them up as she pulled them off until my rock hard Bachhalyā Lund sprang free and stood tall and straight off my lap.
She pulled my sweats off both legs and tossed them aside.
Part of her wanted to begin with my toes and slowly kiss and touch me up my leg but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was so wildly excited and in need of a good fuck that Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wasn’t able to think of foreplay right now.
Besides, if Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was correct about me, I may last much longer in my obvious excitement before I would cum.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav leaned forward toward my Bachhalyā Lund staring at it closely.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s husband had been a great lover but his Brāhmañ penis had always been a little shorter and smaller than average.
My was probably only average in size or perhaps a bit larger, but in comparison to her memories of her husband and considering how desperately horny Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was it looked huge and more tempting than anything Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could imagine.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav leaned over my lap and since my Bachhalyā Lund was standing so straight and hard Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was able to take it between her lips without even holding its shaft.
She immediately took about half my length into her extremely beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth as I released a near primal indication of ecstasy.
The end came after almost an hour.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav had really sucked my Bachhalyā Lund madly and savagely, yet still sophisticated.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav bobbed her head a few times and licked the tip of my Bachhalyā Lund with her tongue.
She had fully intended on doing much, much more.
I called out very erudite and bucked my hips upward gravely as I started to cum.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could feel my cum surging through the shaft of my Bachhalyā Lund with her lips an instant before it erupted into her mouth with a force that shocked her.
She planned to take my whole load in her mouth but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was unprepared for the force and sheer volume of my Bachhalyā cum.
Her mouth was almost full after only the first couple of jets.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav struggled to swallow and keep my Bachhalyā Lund inside her mouth as I bucked my hips.
My Bachhalyā Lund was moving in, out and in to her extremely beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth, spurting my Bachhalyā cum heavily inside.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav grasped my Bachhalyā shaft with her Bhārgav Brāhmañ hand and began stroking me that only made me lustier again and seemed to intensify my cumming.
Never had Dr. Sītā Bhārgav experienced such a vast amount of cum.
She excitedly watched it spew out of my Bachhalyā Lund for what was a surprisingly long time before I finally stopped.
My last few spurts of cum barely trickled out of my Bachhalyā Lund and as her fingers worked them out they came out in thick globs that immediately ran down until her hand was coated with my Bachhalyā cum.
I looked her in the face again after I stopped cumming.
My eyes glowed with lust and satisfaction.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav looked back at me.
She had swallowed what was in her mouth and found the taste nasty and intoxicating all at the same time.
Yet, it was the tastiest thing Dr. Sītā Bhārgav had ever tasted in her life.
Yes, Ramā Bhārgav, her younger sister was correct.
The more she licked it the more she wanted to lick it even more, even more and even more.
Yes, her girlfriends were also correct.
They always talked of its incredible taste.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav always tried to stop them.
However, she herself wanted to talk about it now.
Wasn’t it a miracle?
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Everbest Wives
I was Saåīdah Yåqūb’s older brother.
Of course, not real, her real brother’s friend instead.
It was unfortunate that Saåīdah Yåqūb’s real brother had left them.
Saåīdah Yåqūb knew it was all her Ammī’s fault.
Was it really?
Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, her Ammī, was a young woman still, after all.
“She should have married someone, Saåīdah.” her brother was furious, “How the hell can I bear my Ammī is a live in relationship partner of my own friend?”
Saåīdah Yåqūb watched him gravely.
“What’s wrong in it?”
“Durgesh is my Abbū.”
“Oh, hadn’t our Abbū, Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb, married our Ammī when she was Just Eighteen Just Adult and our Abbū was fifty six?”
“Certainly you are not telling me that Abbū could marry a Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauty but the same Musalmān Beauty can’t do it, when it’s her turn. She isn’t fifty six even. She is only forty two.”
“Are you crazy? Everyone is calling our Ammī a cougar.”
“So what? Isn’t Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī a cougar? Isn’t Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Réħānah Muħammad a cougar? Isn’t Doctor Rābiyah Altamash a cougar? Aren’t a large number of working sophisticated filthy rich Musalmān Beauties cougars now? If our ultramodern sophisticated society is still respecting them, what the hell else our Ammī is doing?”
“I don’t want to argue with you. I can’t bear that my friends tease me calling Durgesh my Abbū.”
“Well?” Saåīdah Yåqūb watched her elder brother with burning eyes, “What the hell you want? Distribution of our ancestral businesses and property? Tell expressly. Come out with your real vile hidden intentions.”*
Saåīdah Yåqūb never told Salmān Yåqūb, her brother, what her own vile hidden intentions were.
But there was a reason behind it.
For a long time she herself had a crush on me.
She favored her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, not because she was broad minded ab initio.
She had seen me fucking her Ammī actually.
Allah, what tremendous lovely nude pair her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, with Durgesh made!
Saåīdah Yåqūb honestly realized, first time, her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was not made for her Abbū, Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb ever.
She was made for Durgesh actually.
What if Durgesh was thirty four?
What if her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was forty two?
If the fifty six years old Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb could marry Just Eighteen Just Adult Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, entirely unashamed of himself, why the hell forty two years old her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, can’t fuck thirty two years old Durgesh?
Saåīdah Yåqūb knew Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb, her Abbū, was old now.
He was fifty six already when her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was Just Eighteen Just Adult.
Now, her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was forty two.
She was entire twenty four years younger when she was married to her Abbū, Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb.
Now, her Abbū, Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb, was eighty years old.
He had stopped having sex with her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, when he was not even sixty.
Her parents enjoyed sex with each other only for one year.
Saåīdah Yåqūb overheard her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, telling Durgesh that her Abbū, Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb failed even in their Shab-e-Ůrūsī, their very Golden night.
her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, fucked Durgesh first time then.
Was Durgesh only ten years old then?
And her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, fucked a ten years old Hindu boy to extinguish the sexual fire between her legs?
Saåīdah Yåqūb couldn’t believe it.
Had the entire other adult males died already?
Yes, her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was Just Eighteen Just Adult.
She could have compromised on an eight years younger Hindu boy even.
Moreover, Durgesh was a hypersexual boy ab initio.
It is said Durgesh was fucking extremely beautiful adult Musalmān Beauties too as early as he could fuck a girl/woman.
Nevertheless, her Abbū, Nawab Muħammad Yåqūb, was eighty.
What’s wrong there if her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, fucks an eight years younger Hindu male?
Her brother, Al Salmān Al Yåqūb, is communal.
He is jealous of his Hindu friend, Durgesh.
Well, none could say her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was forty two.
She looked ten years younger than her real age.
Durgesh thirty four.
her Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, thirty two.
What a perfect match!
To hell with her ever communal ever selfish brother, Al Salmān Al Yåqūb.*
I was pretty much the worst guy she could possibly be attracted to as far as Saåīdah Yåqūb was concerned.
Moreover, it was possible that I wasn’t interested in a Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauty while other almost infinite Musalmān Beauties were trying their luck with me.
Her own Ammī, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān, was providing immense sex to Durgesh.
Moreover, her Ammī’s real sisters, her cousins, her Bhābhījāns and her extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriends were also serving Durgesh sexually with their ever gorgeous ever glamorous ever ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent female Musalmān bodies.
Why the hell Durgesh would pay any attention to a Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauty, Saåīdah Yåqūb, then?
It wasn’t just that Durgesh was completely unattainable, that was pretty common for crushes as far as Saåīdah Yåqūb could tell.
It was always having me around, never getting a break from the fantasies floating around in Saåīdah Yåqūb’s head.
Every time she met me in the hallway coming out of the shower with my hair still damp and a towel wrapped around my waist, every time she watched me swimming laps in the pool in our backyard, thoughts would surface in Saåīdah Yåqūb’s head and drive her crazy.
I really was good looking, it wasn’t just Saåīdah Yåqūb who thought so.
Saåīdah Yåqūb’s friends talked about it sometimes, occasionally admitting their own crushes on me, but of course Saåīdah Yåqūb could never tell them how she felt.
That was one of the worst parts about it.
Saåīdah Yåqūb had nobody to talk to.
Moreover, despite all her persistent denials, Saåīdah Yåqūb still felt some inherent guilt that Durgesh was a Hindu and she, a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty, was herself dreaming of Durgesh.
The guilt had been really bad when Saåīdah Yåqūb first realized how she felt about me, but that had faded over time.
These days the main concern she had as she lay in bed at night masturbating to images of mine was that someone would find out.
In Saåīdah Yåqūb’s mind that would be disaster.
Who would ever want to hang out with Saåīdah Yåqūb if they knew something like that about her?
Especially Durgesh himself.
I was a pretty good older brother to her, an optimum replacement of her real brother, Al Salmān Al Yåqūb.
Once I grew out of constantly picking on me but Saåīdah Yåqūb was sure if I ever found out about Saåīdah Yåqūb’s crush on me, I would want nothing to do with Saåīdah Yåqūb.
Durgesh was himself already adjusting with her Ammī.
After all, Al Siddīqah Al Salmān was his friend’s Ammī.
It might be more troublesome to his morals to have sexual relationship with his friend’s sister too.
Fortunately I seemed completely oblivious to the attention Saåīdah Yåqūb paid me.
Given all the times I had caught Saåīdah Yåqūb staring at me, it was a wonder I hadn’t yet noticed.*
Saåīdah Yåqūb was lying out on a lounger beside our pool working on her tan, nothing uncommon for her during
I was just finishing up mowing the lawn.
Saåīdah Yåqūb had of course been surreptitiously watching me whenever I came into view.
She had gotten quite good at leaving her eyelids open just enough to see through without anyone being able to tell.
And when that was too difficult she could always fall back on simply wearing a pair of sunglasses.
Eventually I put the mower away in the garage and came over to sit down on the chair next to her.
I didn’t speak for a minute or two, and Saåīdah Yåqūb did her best to pretend she didn’t even notice me.
“How’s the tan coming Saåīdah Yåqūb?” I asked.
Saåīdah Yåqūb shrugged,
“Not bad. Need more sunny days like this, it’s been too cloudy lately.”
“Should make sure you don’t burn,” I said casually.
“I’m being careful,” Saåīdah Yåqūb replied, completely failing to pick up on my tone.
“Just in case maybe we should cool you off.”
Saåīdah Yåqūb squealed as I picked her up, finally catching on to what I was up to.
“Durgesh, wait, I…”
I ignored Saåīdah Yåqūb and tossed her into the pool.
As she surfaced and pushed her hair back out of her face she saw me staring constantly at her, she started to blush.
“Could I have my top please?” Saåīdah Yåqūb asked quietly to her own immense surprise.
She had been lying on her stomach and had untied Her bikini top to avoid getting a tan line across Her back.
She didn’t realize that when I picked her up but she had definitely become aware.
“Yeah sure,” I mumbled before throwing Saåīdah Yåqūb Her top.
I turned away as she put it on, giving her what privacy I could.
“Sorry about that Saåīdah Yåqūb, I really didn’t… it wasn’t….”
“I know it wasn’t on purpose, it’s okay. Really.” Saåīdah Yåqūb cooed.
She probably should have been as embarrassed as she was, probably should have been at least a little upset; Saåīdah Yåqūb wasn’t though.
It really was just an accident, not like I was being mean.
Aside from throwing Saåīdah Yåqūb in the pool anyway.
I offered a hand to Saåīdah Yåqūb and helped pull her out of the water.
If she were feeling vindictive, unkind, Saåīdah Yåqūb would have given me a shove toward the pool as she stood there awkwardly.
Instead Saåīdah Yåqūb picked up Her towel and headed inside.
A new fantasy was already building in Her mind.
Saåīdah Yåqūb wanted to get to Her room as quickly as possible.
She forced Her self to dry off properly first, no point dripping water over the floor and getting in trouble later.
Once safely inside Her room with the door locked Saåīdah Yåqūb was naked on Her bed within seconds.
Various scenarios played out in Her head as Her fingers worked furiously on Her pussy.
Sometimes I would refuse to give Saåīdah Yåqūb Her top, forcing her to climb out of the water and try to retrieve it on Her own.
I would grab Her breasts as she passed me and Saåīdah Yåqūb would pretend not to like it but she would ignore me.
Saåīdah Yåqūb would end up on the ground running Her fingers through my hair as I kissed on Her nipples and stroked Her Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy with my hand.
Other times, it went much like it actually did, only she would admit to her that I liked seeing her breasts.
Saåīdah Yåqūb thought impishly that she would offer to let me feel them and eventually she would.
Saåīdah Yåqūb would just stand there as I felt her up, then our eyes would meet and Saåīdah Yåqūb would kiss me.
It would be gentle at first, then her tongue would press into my mouth.
My hand would hold Her head firmly against mine.
Somehow we always ended up fucking beside the pool, that was the part that turned Saåīdah Yåqūb on the most.
Saåīdah Yåqūb came three times just thinking about it and eventually had to stop masturbating for a while.
As she lay on Her back waiting for Her breath to return to normal she looked over at the clock beside Her bed.
Saåīdah Yåqūb had been at it for almost an hour which was a pretty long time even for her.
Her hand lazily stroked the side of Her thigh and worked its way back to her ardent Musalmān clit.
Saåīdah Yåqūb just had to hope she didn’t overdo it and pass out from dehydration or something, that would be extremely awkward.*
Saåīdah Yåqūb was talking to Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān on the phone when the story slipped out.
“You mean Durgesh actually saw you topless?”
Saåīdah Yåqūb hadn’t actually decided whether she should tell anyone about it, but Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān was Her best friend and Saåīdah Yåqūb knew she would keep it secret.
“Yeah. It was kinda funny actually when I realized what I did. I was so embarrassed,” Saåīdah Yåqūb said winking at Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān.
“Do you think its going to be awkward between you guys?” Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān asked.
“Nah, I don’t think its a big deal really. Durgesh probably doesn’t even care except that he might be mad.”
There was a pause on the other end.
Saåīdah Yåqūb almost thought they might have gotten disconnected.
“I dunno Saåīdah Yåqūb, Durgesh might have been embarrassed because he liked seeing you, y’know, topless,” Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān said hesitantly.
Her comment freaked Saåīdah Yåqūb out for a second.
She was worried that Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān somehow found out about Her fantasies.
She took a deep breath and tried to calm down.
Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān didn’t actually know anything, she was just speculating.
It might even have just been a joke except that it didn’t seem like something she would joke about.
“Yeah right, I’m sure Durgesh wants to see me naked,” Saåīdah Yåqūb shot back, hoping Her pause hadn’t been too long.
“Whatever you say. But it does happen Saåīdah Yåqūb, I’m just saying.”
Saåīdah Yåqūb chewed on Her lip as Her mind raced.
She didn’t seem to be bothered by the idea of me wanting to look at her.
The question was whether she would be bothered by what Saåīdah Yåqūb wanted to tell her.
Saåīdah Yåqūb was so tired of keeping it secret that the opportunity was too much to pass up.
“Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān,” Saåīdah Yåqūb said slowly, “I want to tell you something, but it has to be a secret. You can’t tell it to anybody, ever. And I really hope it doesn’t freak you out.”
“I promise Saåīdah Yåqūb, cross my heart.”
She sounded intrigued, excited even.
Only because she didn’t know what Saåīdah Yåqūb was going to tell her; the best Saåīdah Yåqūb could hope for, after that, was indifference.
“I kinda… have thoughts about Durgesh. Like bad thoughts. Where he’s… naked and stuff.” Saåīdah Yåqūb knew she was making a mess of what Saåīdah Yåqūb wanted to say.
It wasn’t coming out right.*
“Oh, yeah. I figured,”
It took a moment for her statement to sink in, I couldn’t even comprehend its significance.
“Wait, what? You knew?”
That was bad.
That was very bad.
Not that she knew so much, she clearly wasn’t all that upset.
But she had never told anyone as far as she could recall.
It meant it must be obvious how she felt.
Fuck, maybe everyone knew.
Maybe they were all laughing about it behind Her back.
Saåīdah Yåqūb was just the girl with a crush on her own Hindu Stepfather.
Moreover, she couldn’t even keep it a secret.
“Yeah, sorry Saåīdah Yåqūb. I’ve been pretty sure for a while that something was going on there. You know how I say you talk in your sleep? Well Durgesh’s name comes up a lot when you’re dreaming. Among other things”
Saåīdah Yåqūb was relieved to say the least.
If Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān had only worked it out because of what Saåīdah Yåqūb said in Her sleep then Saåīdah Yåqūb was probably safe.
Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān was the only person who had slept in the same room with Saåīdah Yåqūb for a long time.
Saåīdah Yåqūb didn’t have to worry about anybody else knowing.*
The talks with Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān helped a lot.
Saåīdah Yåqūb didn’t feel almost so alone anymore.
All the worrying she’d done about telling Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān seemed silly in hindsight, since she was nothing but supportive toward Saåīdah Yåqūb.
If Ar Raħīmah Ar Raħmān felt anything negative toward Saåīdah Yåqūb at all, she had never showed as much as even a hint of the same.
The rest of Her life remained pretty consistent.
Saåīdah Yåqūb still fantasized of me and masturbated too much.
I was worried now.
It wasn’t good either for her health or morals.
Soon it might appear on her character even if it wasn’t cured.
Should I fuck Saåīdah Yåqūb?
If she wants me, let her too have me?
What the hell difference would it make to me?
Even my Practical Chief Wife now was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, once my stepdaughter herself.
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and Kħadījah Muħammad had almost given their active charge to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
If even my Practical Chief Wife today was once my stepdaughter, if a large number of my Live in relationship Partners now were once my stepdaughters, what’s wrong there if Saåīdah Yåqūb also joins them?
I must think of her character.
Must not I?
Saåīdah Yåqūb was unsurprisingly awkward around me at times, particularly when she was sunbathing.
Saåīdah Yåqūb ignored it for the most part since she assumed everything would get back to normal soon.
Everything did not, however, get back to normal.
Saåīdah Yåqūb was usually really good about keeping Her door locked when she was feeling horny.
Someone would have caught her masturbating long ago even if I would haven’t.
Obviously Saåīdah Yåqūb wasn’t quite as meticulous about it as she should have been.*
Saåīdah Yåqūb was just coming down from yet another self-inflicted orgasm when she saw me standing in the doorway.
My hand was still on the doorknob.
We stared at each other fascinated, as we shared a moment of ultimate intimacy, for what seemed like hours.
“I thought I heard my name…” I smiled boldly and looked at her.
“Allah, youuuuuuuuuuuuu? Get out!” Saåīdah Yåqūb shouted, finally reacting to the situation.
She pulled her blanket over her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī naked Musalmān body even though it was too late to do much good.
Then she pulled it over her head before burying her face in her pillow.
Hiding couldn’t help but she couldn’t think of anything else to do.
The floorboards creaked quietly as I approached the bed.
“Go away!” Saåīdah Yåqūb tried to yell but her words lacked the proper force.
Tears were welling up in her eyes.
I knew her secret now.
I heard her saying my name.
“Fuck me, Durgesh. Fuck me, Durgesh, please!!!”
Saåīdah Yåqūb didn’t remember doing it, but it could easily have slipped out while she was cumming.
I definitely knew Saåīdah Yåqūb was masturbating when she said it too.
Maybe if she’d had clothes on at the time I could have passed it off as something else, but getting caught naked with her hand still lying on her cunt was pretty humiliating, and enormously embarrassing too.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
It was almost five minutes before Al Kubrah Al Qāsim returned.
Her manner was apologetic.
“Now,” she said, “there are complications.”
“Chachājān, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, was delayed in town. He’s on his way out here now. I got Abbū on the phone and told him I’d leave the papers. Unfortunately, Abbū says I’ll have to wait for Chachājān, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. He…”
She couldn’t even finish her sentence.
A car was coming there.
“Here he comes.” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim said, “That’s my Chachājān, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs’s car.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs stopped his car and jumped out.
“Well, well, well,” he smiled at both of us, especially at Al Kubrah Al Qāsim, “you are already here? But still you are late.”
“Late?” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim looked at him surprised.
“Sure, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has gone already.”
“Certainly.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs confirmed what he had said, “The conference started on even before the pre scheduled time. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim phoned Bahū Begum,Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, and my wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, about eight saying he would be home around eleven or eleven thirty. Then he left us about nine o’clock stating that he was driving back to his home at Ved Nagar. He wanted to be home by eleven.”
“You didn’t go with him?” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim asked.
“No, he wanted us to discuss some business matters more. He wanted us to reach a consensus in them. He instructed me especially to see to it. After he left, I paced the floor idly for a couple of turns and wound up standing at the window looking down on the street.”
“Standing at the window? Looking down on the street, Chachājān?” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim said puzzled somewhat.
What a tragedy.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs hated his own daughter, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, and loved Al Kubrah Al Qāsim, his younger brother’s, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s daughter, Al Kubrah Al Qāsim.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim was the shrewdest of all the sisters and cousins.
Even Al Zakāt Al Qāsim was impressed very much by Al Kubrah Al Qāsim’s tremendous success with Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Al Nadīm Al Quddūs too.
Both of them loved Al Kubrah Al Qāsim wildly.
Al Zakāt Al Qāsim could never understand how Al Kubrah Al Qāsim managed it.
We were now walking to the elevator.
“Sure,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said responding to his niece, “I even saw Al Muħammad Al Qāsim cross to the curb, stand a moment, and then walk diagonally across the street. He crossed the other sidewalk on a diagonal to the corner, and then walked around the corner. After that, I was unable to see your Abbū, Al Kubrah Al Qāsim. The building on the opposite corner obstructed his further view.”
We had dressed again before Al Nadīm Al Quddūs reached us.
He wasn’t quite used to the Chaturang Shāshvat Maithunyog atmosphere of Ved Nagar still now.
He still felt awkward to it.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim insisted to keep fucking me, but I admonished her deliberately.
“Oh,” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim said, “you left the window, I think.”
“No, that’s the interesting incidence I wanted to tell both of you. I continued to stand at the window thinking of our industrial problems, inadvertently.”
“Oh, and what’s interesting in it?”
“Within a matter of seconds after my younger brother, your Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, had started across the street, I saw the shadow of an extremely beautiful woman.”
“You saw the shadow of her, not herself?”
“Herself afterward, at first I saw her shadow only.”
“I see. Anything particular, if you noticed?”
“It was a very shapely shadow. I mean to say the shadow itself intrigued, fascinated, charmed, captivated me because it appeared to be cast by a young woman who was…well, shapely.”
We had come to the elevator.*
The elevator arrived.
We stepped inside.
To Al Nadīm Al Quddūs’s immense surprise, both his ever-cunning wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, and his Bahū Begum, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, were already in the elevator.
“Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Bahū Begum, you are late.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was surprised pleasantly, “Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had told you…”
“Nothing.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm said curtly.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs felt hurt.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm never respected her relationship with him.
She still believed Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was after her own trillions as well as after the billions of his younger brother and her husband, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.
He opened his mouth to protest, but Al Nāsirah Al Karīm had already dismissed him.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs controlled himself patiently.
What the use after all?
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was so greedy openly that Al Nadīm Al Quddūs couldn’t make anyone believe he wasn’t greedy at all.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim’s mind was racing.
If Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, her Abbū, really succeeded in his planning, what would happen?
Could she work out the things with Durgesh?
Would her other family members be prepared to listen to her?
Maybe…After all, she was an Al Qāsim.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, her Abbū, had himself chosen her his would be successor.
She had to solve the present dilemma.
Her other sisters didn’t have the proper guts.
Muħammad bin Qāsim was a clandestine gay.
He was unable to run, Al Qāsim Group of Companies.
He couldn’t run a single company, Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company even.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand had already taken charge.
In seven years, Al Kubrah Al Qāsim had achieved so very much.
It had not been easy.
Al Zakāt Al Qāsim was a great help.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand also wanted to see her in charge of Al Qāsim Group of Companies.
He advised her to even to rape Durgesh, if the Hindu moralist didn’t buzz.
Only Durgesh could fulfil her dreams, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand said.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim frowned even more deeply.
He is now hers already.
He isn’t any problem.
He is obsessed to fuck Musalmān Beauties.
Any Musalmān Beauty can have Durgesh if she really surrendered to him.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim was in control now.
Moreover, Al Kubrah Al Qāsim planned to stay in control.
Everyone in Al Qāsim family has to accept that fact.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm and Al Safiyah Al Ghaus watched Al Kubrah Al Qāsim profoundly.
Yet neither of them made any eye contact with her.
Eye contact was always a mistake.
It led to mundane conversations like ‘Isn’t it hot today’ or ‘Nice weather we are having’.
Elevator conversations were a total waste of time.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim took no further notice of them either.
She was thinking of the problems that lay ahead.
Suddenly, the elevator ground to a stop mid-floors, and the lights went out, plunging all of us into inky blackness.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus exclaimed.
“Allah, what the hell happened?”
“Generator gone out, I think.”
“But the lights on again.”
“Emergency lights, stupid.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
“I am not stupid, neither my niece Al Kubrah Al Qāsim is. We both are black belt karate champions. She deliberately brought you here. Now, decide yourself who is stupid.”
“Al Safiyah Al Ghaus,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs admonished his wife, “are you crazy? If Durgesh has come here, it’s never because Al Kubrah Al Qāsim brought him here. He came here on his own volition.”*
Al Islam Al Wahāb looked at Pandit Brahmdutt Paurāñic.
She remembered her days when Pandit Brahmdutt Paurāñic wasn’t Al Qāsim Al Åbdullah.
Her Bahū Begum, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, said Al Islam Al Wahāb had done a great wrong to them by insisting that Pandit Brahmdutt Paurāñic should be converted to Islam before Al Islam Al Wahāb and Pandit Brahmdutt Paurāñic marry.
“Al Nāsirah Al Karīm is right.” Al Islam Al Wahāb’s second Bahū Begum, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus also said, “India is Hindu dominant country.”
Al Islam Al Wahāb watched both of her Bahū Begums bitterly.
“Brahmdutt was already married to the Hollywood heroine Della Kennedy. He couldn’t divorce her. She was heroine in several movies produced and directed by him.”
“Al Nadīm Al Quddūs Bhāījān and Al Muħammad Al Qāsim both are from Brahmdutt Abbū?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus asked her mother in law.
“Of course, any objection?” Al Islam Al Wahāb said curtly.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled at Al Nāsirah Al Karīm.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm nodded.
“Ammī, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus thinks Al Nadīm Al Quddūs must return to his original religion.”
Al Islam Al Wahāb shouted.
“Brahmdév Sharmā uncle and Nāzimah Yåqūb auntie invited us yesterday in a party.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said in her sweetest manner.
Al Islam Al Wahāb was immediately all alert.
She never found her Bahū Begum, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, using her sweetest manner until and unless the subject under discussion did not relate to exorbitant money.
Al Quddūs Al Åālam, her first husband, was a millionaire himself.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was not Al Quddūs Al Åālam’s son exactly.
She was in his nikāħ, but Al Islam Al Wahāb had her extramarital affair with Pandit Brahmdutt Paurāñic even then.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was its natural result.
Al Quddūs Al Åālam knew it very well.
Even then, he acted immensely liberal to the entire situation.
“I know I’m dying, Al Islam Al Wahāb.” he said, “All my thirteen daughters from my previously divorced three wives, and the husbands of my daughters, have proved immensely incapable to run my business. I know, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs isn’t my son. Yet, he has given me more love, respect and loyalty than my own daughters gave me ever. You have been lenient enough till now not to tell Al Nadīm Al Quddūs he isn’t my son.”
“I’m sorry, Al Quddūs Al Åālam,” Al Islam Al Wahāb said patiently, “Brahmdutt couldn’t control himself and I couldn’t stop him. He just assaulted me, invaded me, in passion. Due to your long illness we hadn’t have sex for a long time. I surrendered to him in that wild animal moment.”
“It’s alright. It doesn’t make any difference now. I want to give my estate to Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. Would you and Pandit Brahmdutt Paurāñic be kind enough not to tell him he isn’t my son actually, till I die?”
Before Al Islam Al Wahāb could answer, Pandit Brahmdutt Paurāñic held Al Quddūs Al Åālam’s hand.
“Don’t worry. He was your son, and he’d remain so till you live.”
Al Islam Al Wahāb looked at Pandit Brahmdutt Paurāñic.
“It’s alright.” Pandit Brahmdutt Paurāñic circled her waist in his left arm, “He is dying. We can have more sons. He can’t.”
Al Quddūs Al Åālam suddenly found his eyes filled with tears of immense gratitude.
“Thank you very much, my friend. You’ve made my death easier now.”*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan listened to Al Jamīlah Al Sultānova.
The Russian Musalmān Beauty had attracted her attention very much.
She looked at Kħadījah Muħammad.
“Well,” Kħadījah Muħammad said, “you understand ultramodern young Musalmān ladies more, Naåīmah. Durgesh, and I are somewhat older now in comparison to you. If not in our physical bodies, in our understanding of the ultramodern youth at least.”
“Nonsense, Bājī, I couldn’t have done anything at all if you and Saiyadah Fātimah PhD Bājī hadn’t supported me blindly and compelled Durgesh to do what I wanted him to do.”
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
“That’s all right. That’s all right. But you are forgetting you were doing what we ourselves wanted to, yet couldn’t.”
“Because we hadn’t any Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and Kħadījah Muħammad to support us. We hadn’t any Imām Muħammad Ħasan who had dreamed of to be Mustafā Kamāl Atāturk of entire Pseudo Islamic countries.”*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm watched me, scrutinizing me thoughtfully.
She didn’t pay any attention to the fact that the elevator had stopped in the midway.
Her husband Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was planning something to get rid of his ever-greedy relatives, she knew.
He had consulted me in the matter.
I had already helped Al Muħammad Al Qāsim in the matters pertaining to his nudist feminist Musalmān Houseladies, successfully.
I had helped Al Nāsirah Al Karīm too in the matters pertaining to her problem child, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim too.
She could never forget how I convinced Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim if she couldn’t live in relationship with me, she marry Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.
“Fuck her yourself.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm had said to me.’
“What?” I could not believe a mother could request me to fuck her daughter.
“If you don’t fuck Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, she’d fuck Shankar Mahāpralayankar herself.”
“I don’t want her to have any relationship with Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Shankar Mahāpralayankar is an Underworld Don.”
“Well?” I smiled.
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar isn’t a problem to you because you can handle him successfully through several persons and means he cares for even more than his own life and the Organized Crime Empire he has established with the help of criminal politicians and industrialists all over the globe. I don’t want anything of him. Muħammad Ůsmān, my younger brother, and Muħammad bin Qāsim, my son, are already his patrons. That’s itself more than enough I can bear and handle.”
“Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim loves Shankar Mahāpralayankar?”
“Yes.” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm gritted her teeth, “I know Shankar Mahāpralayankar is the second choice of Musalmān Beauties nowadays, not the first one. You are the first choice they always dream of.”
“Tell me something more about your husband’s relatives,” I invited, “have you been fighting with them?”
“Not particularly. Pratāp Bachhalyā and Vikram Bachhalyā are not exactly my husband’s relatives only. They are my sons in law too. And actually I think they respect me more than they respect my husband even.”
“Because you are a trillionaire while your husband is only a billionaire?” I smiled.*
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled.
“Well, money plays an important role in gaining respect too. I think you understand that far better than even I do.”
I smiled too.
“May I ask what did an extremely beautiful lady, as beautiful and as intelligent as you are, find in Al Muħammad Al Qāsim to marry him?”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm smiled significantly.
“Well, he is too a billionaire at least.”
“But you are a trillionaire. You could have…”
“I couldn’t compromise with my freedom to take decisions, in any matter whatsoever. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim promised he would never interfere.”
“Means he wanted your trillions more than he wanted you?”
“Why should I worry the hell about it? I myself wanted only a nominal husband to show to my acquaintances. Didn’t I?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm laughed, “In addition to that he was a billionaire himself too. It meant least demand of money from me than otherwise it would have been.”
I digested the information.
Now I understood why they both were not interested in each other mutually very much.
It wasn’t a marriage actually.
It was only a front they created to show their acquaintances.
Now I understood why Al Muħammad Al Qāsim didn’t object, even slightly, to my solution of his problems.*
I looked at Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.
She was still looking at me every now and then somewhat stealthily.
“You have been away since, for several weeks?” I asked.
“Three months almost.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd tried to control herself.
Even then, she couldn’t hide her impishness emerging every now and then.
The ultramodern young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Beauty was not as grave in her nature as she was trying frantically to display herself.
Yes, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was sophisticated, PhD, and she knew the world around her quite well.
Yet, she wasn’t a grave young Musalmān lady despite her desperate efforts to display herself so.
She was a naughty young Musalmān lady, by nature, bubbling with immense mischievous youth even at her twenty- ninth.
Every now and then, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was looking between my legs impishly.
It was more than obvious that Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was very pleased to find that she was successful in causing me erection for her.
She was proud of herself that her immense Musalmān beauty was causing it.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd had deliberately gone to a beauty parlour before coming to me.
I was surprised that Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd wasn’t in panic at all.
Neither she was worried to the extent she might have been under the similar circumstances some other normal Musalmān Beauty would have been.
Instead, she seemed to be quite confident and surprisingly in possession of her faculties.
I extended my hand.
“There was a check in the letter?”
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd passed me a slip of paper.
“Here it is.” she said.
I looked at the check.
Suddenly I straightened.
Gravely I looked at the check again.
“Ten million dollars?” I inadvertently exclaimed.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd looked at me gravely.
“That’s what the check says.”
“I don’t know.”
“He doesn’t want you to have the money?”
“No, he wants you to take charge of the money for me.”
“You too want me to take charge of the money for you?”
“Why not? You claim to be sixty-three. I’m twenty-eight only. You have thirty five years more experiences of life and the world than I do.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd said gravely, “They can snatch away the money from me in some way, either this or that, but not from you. My money is in safer hands for me.”
“Quite obviously, quite evidently, there’s something bothering Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.”
“Let’s find out.” I said.
“Am I accepted?”
“To be your one more new live in relationship partner?” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd asked gravely.
I watched her.
There wasn’t any faintest trace of impishness now in her any manner whatsoever.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Imām Muħammad Ħasan wasn’t even in the least surprised when he found not even a single hand rose in his support.
It couldn’t be achieved only in a single year.
Not only Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, herself too knew there were so many illegal militant organizations of Pseudo Musalmīn working clandestinely in former Saůūdī Årab, present Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.
It was a backbreaking job.
Yet, it didn’t mean anything.
She looked comfortable and friendly.
It was appropriate for the job Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had entrusted to her.
“Your friend has gone crazy.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said gravely, “Her success has gone over her head. It isn’t easy for everyone to digest her/his incredulous miraculous success.”
“No one in the Executive Council agreed with you.”
“They’d kill her.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan burst out.
“If they could have, they would have already.”*
Bābarah Åālamgīr paused before answering.
“At first I thought it was a vacation fuck, but I’m starting to wonder now if both of them are seeing more, and just don’t want to admit it yet. Have you noticed the way she looks at me, and the way she’s suddenly getting all domestic with cooking and all. Did you know she did my laundry today, without me knowing? I teased them both about getting me a new Ammī. Isn’t it interesting? A new Ammī of my own age, I mean. My childhood friend is my new Ammī. I think that maybe we just might, in time. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Durgesh was really hurt by the whole Live in Relationship Partner thing. I can’t see him running back into it or any kind of commitment.”
They lay there quietly for a while.
Zubaydah Bābar started to purr, to hum, in response.
“You know Zubaydah Bābar hasn’t had her orgasm yet. What do you say Nishāt Nazli? Wanna gang up on her? I’ll take the bottom, you take the top, and then we’ll switch.” Bābarah Åālamgīr winked at Nishāt Nazli impishly.
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Nishāt Nazli laughed.
They both moved into position to give pleasure to their friend, Zubaydah Bābar.*
“You are becoming over cautious, Abbū. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is now our administrator. She has proven to be more successful and smarter than we are. Congratulations, you’ve succeeded in making your daughter even more than what you wanted to make her when you were only a Mukħtār at Tabah. Only she has gone too far ahead. We don’t know now exactly in what the more Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is capable. Durgesh has made her a living legend. I don’t know Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is really a reincarnation of Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimahrza or not. But I’m certain most of us suspect now that she may be. Moreover, they believe she has also attained her Svarūpé Avasthānam as Durgesh has.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan retorted.
“If there is actually a stage of human evolution that’s called Svarūpé Avasthānam.”
“I see. You don’t believe in Svarūpé Avasthānam at all, do you?”
“I’m not a sucker enough to do so.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said curtly.
“Not on the cost of her very life, no.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said furiously, “She doesn’t understand she is playing with dynamite. Running the seven movements Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Durgesh Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ Sex Therapy and Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah Social Service, was one thing and establishing an Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah is quite another thing. They won’t let her do it ever.”
“I see.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said sarcastically, “Am I under arrest in that case?”
“I request you not to make my job difficult.”
“We know you think no ideology is finished forever really. It may lose its political power only.”
“That’s not what I think, that’s the truth, damn you.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan watched her sternly.
“You bunch of fools, only because you’ve succeeded in abolishing the age old kingdom of Pseudo Musalmīn from Saůūdī Årab only, you think all the rest of the Pseudo Islamic Countries would also surrender to you in establishing your dream Ummat Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah? All right, there is no use in arguing with you. How do you intend to treat me, now?”
“Okay, shall I stand you a drink?”
“Later, perhaps, but for now, please sit down. I’m still your niece.”
“I request you again not to make my job more difficult.”
“They killed every Musalmān woman however smart, however intelligent she was, whenever she tried to rule them. They managed even to bring Ummil Mominīn Ħazrat Åāýéshah Siddīqah razī Allāhu tålā ånhā when even Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimahrza revolted. They never allowed even Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimahrza to be the Kħalīfatul Musalmīn.”
“Sure, so far.”*
It was not till midnight that two guards came to remove Imām Muħammad Ħasan from what was, he had to admit, a quite luxurious room.
It was as luxurious as the rooms found only in Ved Nagar.
No other city and/or country could even dream to afford such luxurious rooms.
The room was at Security Headquarters.
It was luxurious, yet locked.
A prison cell?
Are we really as resourceful now as we can afford such luxurious prison cell now?
Imām Muħammad Ħasan wondered.
He had over six hours to second-guess himself bitterly, striding restlessly across the floor for much of the period.
Why did he trust even now Nafīsah Salmān?
Hasn’t she cuckolded him?
Yet, he was over self-confident.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan believed he was far smarter than he really was.
And his over confidence is still continued.
His optimism is incurable.
Why shouldn’t he trust Nafīsah Salmān even now?
Actually, Imām Muħammad Ħasan was neither terrorist, nor criminal.
He only acted to deceive Nafīsah Salmān to be so.
Durgesh was right.
Durgesh was almost always right.
What a man!
What a miraculous man.
What a wonderfully intelligent man!
It served other purposes.
None could understand Durgesh’s planning.
Only his Pitr’shrī and then his own younger brother could understand Durgesh.
His Pitr’shrī explained it to his younger brothers and cousins.
He made Durgesh to explain it to Prakāsh.
Wasn’t it incredible that Prakāsh was so convinced and so dedicated that he sacrificed his entire life, his entire career, to the mission?
The extent Prakāsh believed his elder brother!
The extent Prakāsh had faith in him.
He sacrificed his career as a potential mathematician.
He sacrificed his career as a potential scientist too.
A great sacrifice of course.
He said he couldn’t manage both his study of science and the HVSI administration entrusted to him.
He decided he had to sacrifice his career in mathematical science so that he could make the dream of HVSI come true.
A great decision at that time.
They worked hard 24x7x365
And now they are as successful as none else.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan was inspired from it.
He found to his extremely pleasant surprise his daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan extraordinary brilliant.
Suddenly Imām Muħammad Ħasan found a guard was addressing him repeatedly and absolutely engrossed in his nonstop chain of thoughts, he hasn’t even heard him.
“Yes, please.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan addressed the guard.
“You will have to come with us, Councilman,” the senior of the two guards said with unemotional gravity.
His insignia showed him to be a lieutenant.
He had a scar on his left cheek.
He didn’t look tired at all even now.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan didn’t budge.
“Your name, lieutenant.”
“I am Lieutenant Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, Councilman.”
“I try to live the great name. Thank you, Councilman.”
“How?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said ironically, “By breaking the law?”
“You realize you are breaking the law, Lieutenant Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī. You can’t arrest a Councilman.”
“We have our direct orders, sir.”
“You know very well that doesn’t matter. Did you fight for establishment of this kind of Democracy? She promised us a Democracy. Didn’t she? Yet, if it’s the Democracy what the hell was different in the kingdom of Assaåūds?”
He didn’t even try to answer him.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan continued furiously.
“If it’s really a Democracy, how the hell you can be ordered to arrest a Councilman? Don’t you understand that you’d be liable for a court martial as its result?”
The lieutenant smiled cunningly.
“Who said we are arresting you, Councilman?”
“I see. So you are also involved in her game she’s playing?”
“Okay. I won’t argue with you. If I’m not under arrest, I don’t have to go with you anywhere.”
“We have been instructed to escort you to your home, sir.”
“Well, it happens that I know the way myself.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said sarcastically, “I wasn’t born yesterday. I don’t need your damn escort.”
Lieutenant Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī managed to feign gravity, yet respectfully still now,
“We have to protect you too, en route.”
“From what? From whom?”
“From any potential mob that may gather.”
“Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat is the most popular individual here now. You’ve opposed her openly in the Executive Council itself. There may be some over enthusiasts to harm you, sir. The possibility cannot be ruled out absolutely. The government has to provide you enough security to protect you from any potential harm from such over enthusiasts.”
“I see. So you are too deeply involved in her games? To which of her seven movements do you belong, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Durgesh Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ Sex Therapy and Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah Social Service?”
Lieutenant Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī smiled.
“I don’t know what you are implying, sir, Councilman.”
“With all due respect to you, sir, I can’t and won’t stop you from any loud thinking whatsoever you please, Councilman.”
“You are a major shareholder of that movement yourself, Councilman. What do you think; you don’t belong to that movement even having such a large investment in it?”
“Allah, I’ll be damned.”
“I beg your pardon, sir.”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
“You, being the major shareholder in Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club movement, need more protection from Pseudo Musalmīn than even you imagine, sir.” Lieutenant Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī said with prodigal sweetness and respect, “It is one of the main reasons we’ve waited for midnight. And, now, sir, for your protection we must ask you to come with us. May I say, not as a threat but as information rather, that we are authorized to use force if necessary.”*
Only HVSI manufactured Eīshān Vaigyānic Whips till last year.
Having monopoly in it, HVSI had made grand money by selling them in international market.
Now, HVSI had lost its monopoly.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan rose with whatever dignity he could muster even now.
“Okay, Lieutenant Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī, to my home, then. Or will I find out that you are going to take me to prison instead?”
“We have not been instructed to lie, to you, sir.” Lieutenant Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī said with a pride of his own.
It didn’t mean he never lied to anyone.
For the second time in a week, he had lied to Jamīlah Bū Pāshā even about his hours, to get away from home early.
Suddenly he felt furtive, secretive, and uneasy about so naturally― well, almost.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan became aware that he was in the presence of a professional man.
He would require a direct order before he would lie.
And even then, his expression and his tone of voice would give him away.
“I ask your pardon, Lieutenant.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said, “I didn’t mean to imply that I doubted your word.”
A ground car was waiting for them outside.
The street was empty.
There was no sign of any human being, let alone a mob.
Even then, the lieutenant had been truthful.
He had not said there was a mob outside or that one would form.
He had referred to ‘any mob that may gather.’
He had only said ‘may’.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan could not have twisted away and made a run for it.
The car moved off.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan said,
“Once I am home, I presume I may then go about my business freely― that I may leave, for instance, if I choose.”
“We have no order to interfere with you, Councilman, in any way, except insofar as we are ordered to protect you.”
“Insofar? What the hell does that mean in this case?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan was again furious.
Yet, as soon as he expressed his fury, he realized immediately that he was wasting his energy in vain.
Lieutenant Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī had to do what he was instructed to.
He couldn’t disobey Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, his daughter.
Why the hell can’t he understand his daughter is more powerful now?
He knew very well how dangerous the job, he was entrusted to, was.
The message Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wanted to send to the Pseudo Musalmīn, was if I can’t spare my own Abbū to differ with my dream project Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, how the hell you think I would let you do it?
Lieutenant Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī said gravely.
“Sorry, Councilman, sir, I am instructed to tell you that once you are home, for your own safety you may not leave it. The streets of Dārussalām are not safe for you. I am responsible for your safety, sir. You are not only a Councilman, you also the father of our Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled sarcastically.
“So, my own daughter has put me under house arrest?”
“I’m not a lawyer, Councilman. I don’t know what that means.”
Lieutenant Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī gazed ahead straight.
Yet, his elbow made contact with Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s side.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan could not have moved, however slightly, without the lieutenant becoming aware of it.
Even the White House couldn’t match it in its grandness and luxuries.
“I’ll get out first, Councilman. We will escort you in.”
“For my safety?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled ironically.
There were two guards waiting inside the front door.
A night light was gleaming, but the windows had been opacified.
Moreover, it was not visible from outside.
Then he dismissed it with an inward shrug.
If the Executive Council itself could not protect a Councilman from the ever aggressive Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, in the Council Chamber itself, then surely her own residence could never serve him as his castle.
“How many of you do I have in here altogether? A regiment?” Imām Muħammad Ħasan asked heatedly.
“No, Abbū.” Came a voice, soft, melodious, yet steady and powerful simultaneously. “Just one person you are already habitual of, aside from those you are already acquainted with, for the last year at least. And I have been waiting for you, long enough.”
“Time enough, Abbū, don’t you think, for us to talk person to person?”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan stared.
“All this rigmarole to―”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan interrupted him in a low, yet forceful voice,
“Quiet please, Abbū. ―And you four, outside. Outside! ―All will be well in here.”
The four guards saluted and turned on their heels.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Cabinet Room
She felt that the meeting in the Cabinet Room should concentrate on Ved Nagar and my Svarūpé Avasthānam only.
On what Evelyn Carter should give to me and expect to receive in return.
Yes, she isn’t certain I’ve attained my Svarūpé Avasthānam.
Neither she is certain there is any stage in human evolution that’s called Svarūpé Avasthānam, Self Synchronization, at all.
There’s only one human society, Hinduism that claims, there exists such a stage in human evolution.
HVSI explains its every meteoric miraculous incredible rise using this extremely incredulous theory.
Evelyn Carter doesn’t believe it’s true.
Well, Lily Turner herself doesn’t believe it.
“You know I can’t.” Lily Turner said almost incensed due to her helplessness.
With this concentration on the immediate subject of concern, there was no need to be burdened by the secretary of agriculture, the secretary of commerce, the secretary of transportation, the attorney general, and other members of President’s staff.
Entering the Cabinet Room, Lily Turner could see at a glance that the necessary officers had been alerted.
They were already on hand.
Lily Turner greeted Dr. Åārifah Mustafā, Secretary to Secretary of State, Cyrus Vance, Dr. Shāhidah Ashraf, the recommended Chief of Staff of White House, the secretary of defense and the three officers of the National Security Council.
Then she took the leather chair next to Evelyn Carter’s vacant one.
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās watched me gravely.
“I asked was there any ice to break?” I repeated my question.
“It depends on how you look at it.”
“You went to the table to get acquainted with Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad?”
“If the court please,” Waħīd Murād, the Public Prosecutor, said, “I must insist that the counsel is renowned, infamous rather I must say, to be biased in favor of Musalmān Beauties whosoever she may be. Yet he is surprisingly manifestly unfair to this witness. He is browbeating this witness constantly and trying to put her in a false light before the jury. I want to remind the court, as well as to the defense counsel this woman is a widow. She has been bereaved by the crime of murder committed by―”
“Just a minute, your honor,” I interrupted, smiling, “Mr. Public Prosecutor is arguing the case. There isn’t any question before the court for the Public Prosecutor to argue the case at this time.”
Waħīd Murād was quite angry.
“Nevertheless,” he shouted as if, “I object to having this woman held up in front of this jury as a strumpet, a harlot, a prostitute.”
I smiled patronizing, yet sophisticated.
“And I object, your honor, to having Mrs. Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās held up as a mealymouthed, deceptive, persecuted, bereaved widow simply so the prosecutor can play on the sympathies of the jury. It isn’t a theater; neither are we staging a theatrical drama here. It’s a temple of justice and we are fighting here for the life of humankind. One person already has been murdered and we are fighting here to save the life of another.”
Judge Keyser frowned.
“At present there isn’t any question before the court. Therefore, there isn’t any reason whatsoever to make an objection. The jurors are called upon to see the witnesses, to watch their demeanor, their behavior, their conduct on the stand, to form their own opinions as to thefacts.
The prosecutor has one theory of the case and the defense has another. Please try to avoid personalities, gentlemen. You may proceed, Mr. Durgesh.”
By this time, all vestiges, all hints of the fragile, delicate, helpless, bereaved widow had left the witness Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās.
However, her guts were appreciable.
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās was still sitting on the witness chair, slightly forward, still sad, and feigning a widow being intimidated unreasonably.
“Now then,” I attacked her once again, “you saw this letter in your husband’s pocket?”
“It wasn’t a letter, your honor,” she looked at Judge Keyser, “everyone can understand that it was a blackmail demand.”
“Blackmail demand on Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad?” I asked.
“The letter was sent to him.”
“Isn’t it a fact that your third husband, Akram Sultan, had also received a blackmail demand?” I thundered at her.
“I can’t help it.”
“Isn’t it a fact that your second husband, Muħammad Qāsim Ayyūbī, had also received a blackmail demand?” I smiled at her meaningfully.
“I can’t help it.” Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās repeated her answer.
“Isn’t it a fact that your first husband, Zāhid Rashīd, had also received a blackmail demand?” I smiled at her once again.
“I can’t help it.” She again repeated.
“All the four envelopes had the return address in the upper left hand corner and the name A. M. Åbbās?”
“How do you know it was blackmail?”
“There was a demand for money in the letter. What do you think; it was an invitation to dance?”
“I can’t answer that question. I’d rather leave it to the jury to draw their own conclusion.”
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās watched me gravely.
“That’s your privilege.”
“What’s your full name?”
“Will you please abbreviate it?”
“A. M. Åbbās.” She said curtly, “I understand your implication. But I never blackmailed anyone in my life. Neither have I sent any blackmail letter to anyone. Anyone can use my name as a return address to implicate me.”
“Is there a newsstand at the corner by your residence?”
“Yes, there is.”
“Are you familiar with the person who runs it?”*
Lily Turner repeated her question.
“I asked how did your pre-briefing go with Evelyn Carter?”
“It means lousy, useless, worthless, crummy, horrible. Our potential candidate for next President of USA, Ms. Evelyn Carter, didn’t give a damn about Ved Nagar, Svarūpé Avasthānam and Durgesh himself. She only wanted to speak of sex championship contest in Washington D.C. between
“Then our work’s cut out for us.”
“You are forgetting the resources CIA has. Fortunately or unfortunately, I’m somewhat in a position to use those entire resources for the benefits of USA. Even the President of USA himself has given us the permission, let alone the Director of CIA. I never believe anyone of my Musalmān women friends too, as the President of USA has instructed us, rather has imposed the condition on us, without investigating about them thoroughly.”
“I agree with Lily Turner.” Dr. Åārifah Mustafā, Secretary to Secretary of State, Cyrus Vance, said severely, “That’s why I cancelled everyone else. Ved Nagar is the dream city of Vedic Monotheist Hindus. Durgesh has succeeded in their dreams getting true. He is a Parahuman and Ved Nagar is full of Posthumans.”
“Nonsense.” Evelyn Carter said.
“You must be crazy, Lily.” Evelyn Carter said tersely, “I know Durgesh more than you. He and his adroit followers Vedic Monotheist Hindus are number one liars, number one rumor spreaders. They believe that spreading rumors is Dharm Yuddh, the holy war, a Crusade.”*
Lily Turner smiled.
“I wanted to concentrate on what’s waiting for you at lunch.”
Evelyn Carter controlled herself.
Now she appeared suddenly surprisingly to be in good humor.
She brushed back her hair, grinned at the assemblage, and watched all of them impishly deliberately.
Lily Turner realized her strategy.
She reminded Evelyn Carter gravely.
“We have been discussing your lunch with Durgesh.”
“Is it going to be a long lunch?” Evelyn Carter asked delinquently.
“It doesn’t have to be.” Dr. Åārifah Mustafā, Secretary to Secretary of State, Cyrus Vance, assured her, “After some filling gap talk with the ever richest person in the entire history of humankind, you can wind up lunch and we’ll move into the Yellow Oval Room. The President would be busy elsewhere with Valéry Giscard d’Estaing, the President of France. He has instructed us already to be there in Yellow Oval Room.”
“That can be strictly business?”
“That can be strictly business.” Dr. Åārifah Mustafā said.
“I just wanted to know because I didn’t want to miss the big contest.” Evelyn Carter explained.
“You’ll have plenty of time for that,” Lily Turner promised, “This lunch and meeting with the former head of Hindu Vishv Underground is scheduled to last one and a half hours. Then Miss USA, Margaret Kennedy, is scheduled to accompany Durgesh to the opening of the Ashvinatam Museum expecting Durgesh to say a few words, maybe five minutes’ worth, about an important fund raiser. That’ll give you plenty of time to get back for the contest.”
Evelyn Carter surveyed the Cabinet Room.
“I see a lot of our friends are missing. You’ve brought in only the big brass.”
“Deliberate,” said Lily Turner simply, “Since you are going to be bargaining with the ever sexiest Vedic Monotheist Hindu, we wanted our full concentration to be devoted to a treaty with Ved Nagar/Trantor.”*
“Fair enough.” She said.
“The fact you have to remember is not that Durgesh is the Mayor of Ved Nagar/Trantor now. He was the democratic head of Hindu Vishv Underground too. Hindu Vishv Underground was an underground organization of revolutionaries who were actually behind the independence of India.”
“That doesn’t exist now?” Evelyn Carter smiled sarcastically.
“CIA suspects that it does exist now as Ved Nagar/Trantor instead of its said dissolution into Vyom, interspace.” Lily Turner said curtly. “Our former station head at Ved Nagar/Trantor, Della Turner, and our present station head, Akhilésh M. Āgnéý there, both have reported the importance of Ved Nagar/Trantor. We suspect it isn’t only a city in India. It’s actually Hindu Vishv Underground in its new present supreme developed form.”
Evelyn Carter smiled.
“Any evidence that our suspicion may be true?”
“That’s what you have to find out.” Lily Turner said.
She was twenty-one.
“The fact,” Lily Turner said, “that your younger sister, Rukħsānah Carter, is also in the same university as Kħadījah Muħammad was in, will give you something in common to talk about before you settle down to the nitty-gritty. Durgesh loves Kħadījah Muħammad even more than his duly married wife, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD.”
Now, Evelyn Carter too nodded.
“Alright, what’s the nitty-gritty?”
She tore it loose and came around the table to Evelyn Carter.
“Nellie Adams, take my seat and give me yours. This will make it easier for me to explain a map of Indian sub continent and beyond that I’ve been drawing.”
The exchange was made.
“That’s the reason I called you in today. You are the one closest to Salīm Jalāluddīn Muħammad. I have naturally to discuss the problem with you.” Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā cleared her throat and looked into Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg’s beautiful Iranian Shiå Musalmān eys, “I saw Salīm Jalāluddīn Muħammad late yesterday. I outlined one final time what had to be done. He approved, approved of the surgery. This morning, first thing, he telephoned me. He has changed his mind. He is turning down the operation.”
“He is what? Salīm won’t go through it? I didn’t talk to him this morning. He was still asleep. I haven’t heard about it naturally. It makes no sense. Are you sure, Doctor? We had agreed surgery was his only chance.”
“Apparently, Salīm now doesn’t think so. He now thinks there’s a better course. Have you seen this morning’s paper?”
Nūrjahān surveyed the front page.
She was more bewildered than ever.
“There’s just some headline about Madīnah Munawwarah.”
Turn to page three. Read the full story.”
Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg opened the paper.
The headline hit her.
The story that followed was bylined by great Bābarah Åālamgīr.
It was datelined Paris.
Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg calmly, patiently, read the news story.
When she was through, she folded the paper patiently, neatly, and put it on the desk.
She met the beautiful eyes of Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā.
Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg was aghast, stunned, as the full import of what was happening struck her.
“Yes, that’s the news.” Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā said.
“News? Hell. The hallucination of some crazy uneducated/under educated Musalmīn. It might be some deliberate political strategy of Pseudo Musalmīn too to compensate the anti Musalmīn anti Islam trend, propelled by Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors. Are you telling me Salīm Jalāluddīn Muħammad has read it and believes in this nonsense?”
“Yes.” Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā admitted.
Evelyn Carter watched it.
“A crude drawing of the Indian Sub Continent. It highlights our major Eīshān Vaigyānic bases that help us contain any overenthusiasm that may occur in India, Pakistan, Shri Lanka, nd Afghanistan.” Using her pen as a pointer on the map, Dr. Åārifah Mustafā resumed, “As you can see, our potential Presidential candidate for the next term, this Eīshān Vaigyānic base of ours there in Pakistan has three major wings: Sunnī, Shiå and Aħmadī. Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā is the Commander of our Sunnī Eīshān Vaigyānic base. It is unfortunate that Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā doesn’t have even the citizenship of Pakistan. She is still a Turk Musalmān Beauty. Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg is the Commander of our Shiå Eīshān Vaigyānic base. What a tragedy it is that as Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā, Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg too isn’t a Pakistani citizen. Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg is still a proud Iranian. We have only an Aħmadī Musalmān Beauty as our Aħmadī Eīshān Vaigyānic base at Pakistan that’s a citizen of Pakistan.”
Evelyn Carter smiled.
“How the hell you think Durgesh can help us in improving it?”
“He can permit us to have similar three Eīshān Vaigyānic bases in Ved Nagar: Sunnī Eīshān Vaigyānic base, Shiå Eīshān Vaigyānic base and Aħmadī Eīshān Vaigyānic base. He is the Mayor of the dream city Ved Nagar.”
“Do you really believe in Eīshān Vigyān?”
“Allah,” Dr. Åārifah Mustafā looked at her entirely disgruntled. “Don’t tell us you don’t deserve the post we are preparing you for.”
“Shame on you, Evelyn Carter,” Lily Turner said curtly, “you are more interested in the sex championship contest between Musalmān Beauties and Christian Beauties, than you are interested in your preparation for what we want you to be.”
“Go to hell your Nafīsah Salmān and you both. I say Nafīsah Salmān has succeeded in getting Durgesh. Her ambition has been attained. She is living now in your so-called dream city, Ved Nagar/Trantor. If it’s really a dream city as you claim it to be, why the hell Nafīsah Salmān would risk her golden fortune by helping us, instead of working for HVSI? Durgesh is her Live in Relationship Partner now. Nafīsah Salmān isn’t a fool to risk the golden opportunity of her life. No one would. Even I wouldn’t if I were in her shoes.”
“So this is the reason you are not interested in the strategies we are suggesting?” Lily Turner was furious now.
“Well, why should I?”
Evelyn Carter stared at the map.
“An area, a large area you’ve colored in green and saffron, and two small ones.”
“And you want one there?”
“Don’t you?” now it was Nellie Adams, the secretary to the secretary of defense.
Moreover, Nellie Adams was furious.
“Nellie Adams, the secretary to the secretary of defense,” Evelyn Carter laughed sarcastically, “Don’t pretend to be righteous enough to be more interested in anything else instead in sex with Durgesh. Didn’t you yourself rape Durgesh because he wasn’t leaving Dr. Åārifah Mustafā?”
“I raped him because he was deliberately ignoring me.” Nellie Adams shouted, “It doesn’t mean I’m as disinterested in my country and in Christianity as the hell you are. I am ashamed of you, Evelyn Carter.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The gun imh 59786 was still in my hand.
The condition was now under control.
I pushed the catch of the .22 HVSI revolver.
It released the cylinder.
I swung out the cylinder and said,
“One empty cartridge case in the cylinder.”
I watched her cunningly.
“How can you say that? Neither you know her, nor I.”
“Isn’t it obvious? Damn it.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said angrily, “Thanks Allah, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl is herself a Musalmān lady. My employer is being framed because she is against terrorists and Criminal/ Criminal Minded Pseudo Musalmīn. I demand protection for her.”
“We Musalmān Beauties call you ‘Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!’ Don’t we?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said furiously, “You are already fucking her. Don’t you? Now go ahead and protect her from the Criminal/ Criminal Minded Pseudo Musalmīn. They are trying to frame her because she is promoting Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club being a major shareholder there.”
“How do you know I won’t?” I myself asked furiously.
Both of them looked at each other.
Then relaxed somewhat, they both tried to smile,
“Sorry.” They said simultaneously.
“Let’s assume someone planted this revolver here really to frame Nauhīd Niyāzī.”
“She isn’t Nauhīd Niyāzī.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk immediately said, “She is Shaguftah Rashīd. I don’t know why you are calling her suddenly now Nauhīd Niyāzī. What do you think; I don’t know my employer even?”
She extended her right hand to me once more.
I looked questioningly at her.
“These are two other passports I found here more.”
Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk smiled.
“One of them must be my passport.”
“What if even your doubt is right?” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk smiled indifferently, “Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan isn’t any organization of us Musalmān Beauties that is terrorist, Criminal/ Criminal Minded. Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad is an organization of us Musalmān Beauties that is devoted to educate ourselves as high as we can. We hate crime unconditionally. It’s included in the constitution of Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad never to compromise with the terrorists, Criminal/ Criminal Minded Pseudo Musalmīn. Any soft corner for any of them, if proven, terminates the membership of Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad. What’s wrong in its membership?”*
“I’ve never hidden any fact about my present or past.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said righteously, “Not from either government of India, government of Saůūdī Årab, nor even from my employer, Shaguftah Rashīd.”
“The name of your employer according to her passport is Nauhīd Niyāzī.”
“I doubt it can’t be her passport.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk denied it contemptuously, “Aren’t you jumping on conclusions, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl? Shouldn’t you be more patient and more investigating instead of jumping on baseless conclusions?”
“The charge was never proven against me.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said bitterly, “You must know it as well, as you know that I was prosecuted on the charge.”
“Yes, why not? Certainly.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said fearlessly, “Only I wasn’t expelled from Saůūdī Årab ever. I left Saůūdī Årab after my trial there, on my own accord. Being a Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān yourself, I don’t need to tell you that not only in Saůūdī Årab, in entire Pseudo Islamic Countries as well, once a suspect is always a suspect. Why should I risk my life in Saůūdī Årab if I could live freely in India as a citizen of Sultanate of Oman?”
“I see. How interesting it is however that you have the citizenship of the same country you were charged to be on payroll of.”
“You don’t know the present Sultan of Sultanate of Oman. Do you?”
“Certainly not, my dear, certainly not.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled tartly, “I’m only an ACP here, not even the Commissioner of Police. A friend and sālā of Durgesh, Muħammad Åbdullah has the honor. How can I know any Sultan of any Årab Sultanate, including the said Sultanate of Oman?”
“He is a very good man.”
Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk was smiling patronizingly now.
“Shouldn’t I have?”
“Sure. The point I’m making is different somewhat however.”
I looked at Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.
She couldn’t provide me that information before.
But she is providing me the same now indirectly by cross-questioning Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk herself.
Should I be more attentive to Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk myself?
My basic policy was:
‘Be cautious, but never treat others as your enemy until their enmity to you isn’t proven beyond any doubt.
Never mistake making the others your enemy if they are not already, by doubting their honesty and sincerity to you.’
It was continuously being reported to me from various sources I had access to that, the present Sultan of Sultanate of Oman was a better human being than his contemporaries were.
He was reported to be even better than his own predecessors were.
At present, it had 167 members of the parliament.
Fifteen of them were women.
One hundred fifty two were males.
Not balanced very much.
Yes, but so were the other democratic parliaments even.
The old wood cabin was surrounded by darkness.
The shades were drawn.
A dog lay motionless on the front porch.
A thin stream of smoke flowed out of the chimney and headed north.
It was Makkah Mukarramah itself.
Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk was not a doctor then.
She was Just eighteen Just adult.
Sitting silently in front of the fireplace, Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk was shoving stacks of paper into the hot flames.
Damn Yazīd Malåūn.
He destroyed the great Islamic revolution only because his clan hated the clan of Ħuzūrs.
In his over enthusiasm to establish Islamic morals and discipline Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd razī Allāhu tålā ånahu didn’t Ħazrat Ůmar Fārūq, Fārūq-e-Åāzamrzu, actually unknowingly encouraged Ħazrat Muåāwiyahrzu?
Durgesh says John Elray is wrong that Ħazrat Ůmar Fārūqrzu couldn’t forget the ancestral rivalry with the clan of Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd razī Allāhu tålā ånahu.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched me scrutinizing.
“There are some persons who say even you don’t understand the Islamic movement of Ħuzūrs.”
“Well, they might be right.”
“What?” my duly married wife, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD, looked at me curtly.
I smiled teasing them.
“Once a humane always a humane.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never cared to get your appreciation.” Saiyadah Fātimah PhD said, still curtly to me, “Kħadījah Muħammad and I always cared for childishly. The result is we failed and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is succeeding.”*
I looked at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“We Hindus are not tired of you Musalmān Beauties. Neither we are ever afraid of terrorists and Criminal/ Criminal Minded Musalmīn. You know it very well. The conspiracies of Muħammad Ůsmān are not proven still now.”
I controlled myself.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said again.
“We’ve tried to be civilized about the thing. I knew you think we Musalmān Beauties are unduly, unjustifiably, harsh on our Musalmān mankind. You think we enjoy them punishing unduly when we get support from you Hindus. Why don’t you understand they deserve it?”
“What do you want Durgesh?”
“Stop humiliating Musalmīn until they aren’t proven guilty.”
“Your sense of justice―”
“Unjustified? Impractical? Unreasonable?”
“You must peruse Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors at faith freedom.org more attentively.”
“I’ve studied Al Qur’an Al Karīm and Aħādīs-e-muqaddasāt myself. I’ve studied Al Tārīkħ Al Islam too deeply. I’m sorry to say I don’t agree with Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors at faith freedom.org absolutely.”
“We Musalmān Beauties ourselves don’t agree with Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors at faith freedom.org absolutely.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said, “Yet he and his co-authors are not absolutely incorrect. Are they?”
“But the activities of the Musalmīn they discuss so fearlessly are entirely correct. Aren’t they?”
“I never said that.”
“Yet you never stopped favoring them.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah charged me, “You think Muħammad Ůsmān maybe innocent. Well, if he is innocent why the hell he is maintaining so many households in different Pseudo Islamic Countries as well as in the other countries too?”
I looked at her gravely.
“You really don’t know?”
“What do you mean?”*
I looked at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah gravely.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said curtly,
“Yes. There are so many other Pseudo Musalmīn too. The bastards pretend they marry only four Musalmān wives. But they never tell anyone that they maintain so many households in different Pseudo Islamic Countries as well as in the other countries too. In every household they have their different set of four Musalmān wives.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think we Hindus and you Musalmān Beauties haven’t left another alternative for them except to resort to it. What the Pseudo Musalmīn can do? Their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives hate them because they aren’t ultra-modern, sophisticated and well educated. Sooner or later they join either my bed or the bed of other powerful and capable Hindus that can take care of them perfectly and protect them from their incompetent Pseudo Musalmīn husbands.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at me patiently.
“Working for our Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, we adopt various pretenses to reach the appropriate Jet Musalmān Beauty. We have an assigned territory. I too have. I pretended to have a series of books that are designed to give the newly wed, and still unwed, Musalmān Beauties how to deal with an orthodox Musalmān husband and ultramodern Hindu lover simultaneously.”
“The books are so cleverly arranged that there is really no age limit.”
“Not even just eighteen to thirty you call Jet?”
“Not even just eighteen to thirty we call Jet.”
“You aren’t taking optimum interest.”
“You are mistaken.”
“Nonsense. He is already cuckolded. He can’t even imagine taking any risk that his videos of cuckolded life style be released at the movie theaters and multiplexes of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad etcetera.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at me harshly.
“Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan gives us members all sorts of sides helps, does advertising and secures lists of live prospects so that we don’t have to waste our time in fruitless door to door canvassing. These prospects are sent in at the rate of about ten a day. Sometimes they mail them in, sometimes they telephone them.”
“What is a live prospect?” I asked.
“Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī and Muħammad Ůsmān have a very nice house. They have some spare rooms as well as a guesthouse. Every spare room has its own washbowl and toilet. Yet, it also has a connection with the downstairs bath. Now, listen to me carefully, Durgesh, it’s very important.”
I nodded gravely.
“I’m listening to, don’t worry. Muħammad Ůsmān is not my responsibility. Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah and you are my responsibilities. If Muħammad Ůsmān is really planning some conspiracy against anyone of you both, it’s my responsibility to protect both of you.”
“Thank you.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah sighed somewhat assured now, “Muħammad Ůsmān never liked me. Yet on the persistent insistence of Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī sometimes I have to stay with her even at night, you know.”
“Muħammad Ůsmān is away from home a lot.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah went on, “He claims he is some kind of a business sharpshooter. Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī has always been rather indefinite about what he himself does. Despite Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī inquiring him so many times, Muħammad Ůsmān never told her his true whereabouts. Anyhow Muħammad Ůsmān travels a lot.”
“Muħammad Ůsmān travels a lot.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah nodded, “and makes investments. He has misappropriated Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī’s money already to the extent that now he always seems to have plenty of money. Even then, I’ve never been able to find out exactly what my ever shrewd ever Criminal/ Criminal Minded brother in law does.”
I kissed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
She was on her back now.
Her nude magnificent legs were on my shoulders.
“It was necessary.” I said gravely, “You both had cuckolded him despite my persistent objections. He is shrewd. I had to put some shadow on him to know of his whereabouts.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled,
“His newly married fourth wife, Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās?”
I smiled too.
“None whatsoever. Yet, you put one more shadow on him, his secretary Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm. Didn’t you?”
“He is too shrewd to be shadowed by only his new fourth wife.”*
Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm put a suitcase down, and then she rushed to me, put her arms around my neck and kissed me on my lips.
“This is the suitcase?” I asked.
“This is the suitcase.” Naushād Åzīz Ibrāhīm chuckled mischievously.
Kħadījah Muħammad laughed.
I laughed sarcastically.
“I don’t know. I haven’t studied about your Sāħir Ludhiyānvī ever so minutely.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Disconnecting the mobile, I pushed back my chair.
I got to my feet.
I stood keeping Kħadījah Muħammad on her knees and elbows.
“This thing’s goofy, ludicrous, absurd, Kħadījah Muħammad, Mérī Jān.” I pushed my extremely hardened Uncut Hindu Lund into Kħadījah Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot to the hilt, “I don’t think the police are going to do anything.”
I loved her so much I didn’t love even my legal wife, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD.
I couldn’t help it.
Kħadījah Muħammad was hyper sexual herself as I was.
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD wanted least sex.
She loved and married me not for my sexual prowess.
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD loved and married me for my ‘exclusive unlimited humanity’ and my devotion to upraise the Muslimahs.
“You mean Muħammad Åbdullah…”
“No, no. He’ll certainly do his best. But his police…well, of course, they may find Shaguftah Rashīd in the voter’s register. Think back on that conversation. See if you can…”
“Wait a minute.” Kħadījah Muħammad abruptly said, “She was calling from Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club alright. I could hear the male voices talking of their Stavans, Ved and Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā. The female voices were referring to Allah Måshā Allah Subħān Allah every now and then. And there were the melodious sweet sounds of consummating sex.”
Kħadījah Muħammad went on.
“I could hear the sound of an orchestra too. It… wait a minute now. Don’t fuck me so excitedly. Just push your Uncut Hindu Lund into my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot to the hilt and stop keeping it fully embedded there. No pulling out. Not even a bit. Let me concentrate, please.”
“Sālī,” I pushed my Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot as she requested and kept it there fully embedded to the hilt, “you Musalmān Beauties require my Uncut Hindu Lund fully embedded into your Musalmān Choot so that you may concentrate?”
Kħadījah Muħammad winked at me.
“That’s right, any objection?”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan also concentrates in this way, doesn’t she?”
“She is crazy to imitate you.” I retorted, “You are her role model. Everything whatsoever you have done with me, she is also doing blindly.”
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
“Saiyadah Fātimah PhD too loves her, but…”
“Yes, I do understand, but…”
“Yes, yes, let me concentrate. I remember hearing the background music too, I think. Please fuck me.”
“Please fuck me wildly and let me concentrate.”
“Nonsense. If I fuck you wildly how can you concentrate?”
“You don’t know. You are not a woman. We women have different ways in so many things. Now fuck me you teaser.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t shout.”
“Wildly, Sālī, wildly.” I started fucking Kħadījah Muħammad wildly now.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had smiled once in the similar situation.
“Kħadījah Muħammad Bājī uses you. As I do.”
“These are the times when we can make you to fuck us as wildly as we damn please.”
“Shame on you.”
“Well?” I asked Kħadījah Muħammad fucking her wildly after about fifteen minutes.
“You want me to concentrate, don’t you?”
“Yes, you are right. But don’t forget your promise, will you?”
“To fuck me wildly till…”
“Yes, yes, now come on.”
“I remember the background music now. It was playing ‘Khai ké paan Banāras wālā’.”
“Very good. Now we have only to find out where the hell in Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club this background music ‘Khai ké paan Banāras wālā’ has been played recently tonight. I love you, Kħadījah Muħammad. That’s great.”
“Don’t tell me verbally that you love me, put into action, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! Your Uncut Hindu Lund is already visiting my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot. Isn’t it?”*
I smiled and started obliging Kħadījah Muħammad.
“I think I can find out.” She smiled at me thankfully.
She started to use her mobile.
After some connections and disconnections she winked at me.
“Got it, Durgesh darling.”
“I think we can get it.”
“What is it?”
“Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Ved Nagar has played ‘Khai ké paan Banāras wālā’. I connected to the club and asked if they knew a Shaguftah Rashīd. The hat check girl said she did. She said that Shaguftah Rashīd had been there this evening, but she had left early. She said she had a headache. I asked how we could find Shaguftah Rashīd’s address. She said she didn’t know. Yet, she thought one of the proprietors, Iqbāl Rashīd, knew where she lived.”
“Any relationship with Shaguftah Rashīd?” I asked enthusiastically.
“I asked the hat check girl, but she didn’t know. Iqbāl Rashīd is out tonight, and couldn’t be reached.”
“Damn. You told her it was important?”
“Sure. I told her it was a matter of life and death.”
I used my mobile to contact Commissioner of Police, Muħammad Åbdullah, again.
He was in the bathroom.
“Your name is flashing already on the screen. Want to fuck me now?”
“I thought he could have requested once more to you to fuck his wife, rather his Ammījān now.”
“Give the mobile to Muħammad Åbdullah, your Chief.”
“He is in the bathroom.”
“I can’t wait.”
“I can reach you as early as possible.”
I controlled myself.
However, she was an IPS even then, waiting for her first assignment as a police officer.
This time her voice became crisply businesslike.
“Okay. What is it?”
“I had a legal appointment with a Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah for one o’clock. I was waiting for her. In the meantime I received a call from some Shaguftah Rashīd I knew only by her name. I doubt even that name, Shaguftah Rashīd, maybe fictitious. Yet she rang up. She could barely talk over the mobile. She said she’d been poisoned. Someone had sent her poisoned candy. She certainly sounded about ready to pass out. Evidently the receiver either slipped from her hands and fell, or she keeled over while she was talking to me. Then the receiver was hung up before I could trace the call.”
“You haven’t fucked her ever?”
“You fucked me faithfully being immensely loyal to your stepson that immediately accepted me his Ammījān.”
“Not immediately, Sālī, after two years.” I said curtly.
“You don’t know where she is?”
I held Kħadījah Muħammad’s slim waist with both my hands and kept fucking her wildly as she wanted.
“I’m coming to that.” I said on the mobile, “Kħadījah Muħammad did some fast thinking and some good detective work. I won’t take time to tell you about it unnecessarily. Yet the result is that Kħadījah Muħammad got a lead to the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club in Ved Nagar. A Shaguftah Rashīd is known there. She was there in the evening. But apparently the underlings don’t know her address. An Iqbāl Rashīd runs the place, but he’s out. That’s the story in a nutshell. What do you say, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl?”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t tell the police.” I said curtly, “I’m not the police. I’m only a citizen. I’ve informed the police. Commissioner of police as far as I’m concerned. If someone finds Shaguftah Rashīd’s body tomorrow morning, and…”
Her protest against I fucked her was behind her new phrase ‘Hold your Uncut Hindu Lund’ instead of ‘Hold your horses’.
She used it to register her complaint whenever she talked with me.
“With Kħadījah Muħammad.” I replied.
“I’ll be for you in about five minutes.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said, “Keep your Uncut Hindu Lund ready for me once more. Tell Kħadījah Muħammad you are going to fuck your daughter in law ACP Suraiyā Jamāl for the rest of the night. If you can be waiting down on the sidewalk, it’ll save that much time.”
“Think we can do anything by phone?”
“I doubt it, Prāñnāth. I’m grateful that you recommended your stepson Muħammad Ålī for the proprietorship of this Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club in Ved Nagar. Yet, it won’t take over a few minutes to get there. Be all ready to jump in when you hear the siren. I’ll cut her loose.”
Kħadījah Muħammad herself pushed her glorious glamorous gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī big firm round Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my Hindu loins to receive my Uncut Hindu Lund as deepest as possible.
I blasted my Hindu Vīrý.
Yet, she was still as young and as beautiful as she was when she first raped me.
Kħadījah Muħammad closed her eyes in extreme ecstasy.
She was receiving my Hindu Vīrý once more deepest inside her as she always greeted it.
Dressing myself hastily I said,
“Okay, Ummil Mominīn, hold the fort. I may call you in a little later.”
I had scolded Muħammad Ålī.
“Papa Jī, what do you think, she married me for myself?” Muħammad Ålī complained.
I was as if fallen from the seventh sky.
“It was her own game.” Muħammad Ålī charged his wife, “She was an IPS. She wasn’t a damn fool. Neither she was physically incompetent to protect herself from you when you raped her, if she didn’t want it.”
“You may be right there.” I murmured thoughtfully.*
It took a minute or two for the elevator to get up to the floor I was with Kħadījah Muħammad.
It was an extremely complex theory of Metaphysics it was built on.
We called it Eīshān Vigyān.
The night watchman dropped me to the street level.
I had less than a minute to wait at the curb before I heard the scream of a siren.
I jerked the door open and jumped in.
I hadn’t another option except to shift to the driving seat myself.
“Open my belt, undress me below my waist and fuck me if you really want me to help you in keeping alive your so called Shaguftah Rashīd.”
I hadn’t another option once again.
After, Muħammad Ålī told her that she wasn’t his wife anymore, his Ammījān instead, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl started to sleep with me openly, with her mother in law on my one side and she herself on my other side.
I understood very well why Muħammad Ålī couldn’t satisfy her.
She wasn’t made for the softies in sex like Muħammad Ålī.
Concentrating on driving, she bent forward in rukū’.
Even then her buttocks were more active in back and forth motion than my own waist was.
She had taken benefit of my interest in Shaguftah Rashīd.
The police Mercedes screamed through the streets nonstop.
“Hang on.” She warned me as the police Mercedes screamed in a turn.
I saw, she was enjoying both the excitement of my Uncut Hindu Lund tearing her Meccan Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and the excitement of tearing through traffic with siren screaming and motor roaring.
We dressed ourselves competently, debouched from the police Mercedes and marched across the sidewalk.
“You are an excellent driver.” I smiled.
“Thanks.” I squeezed her buttocks.
She squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund to show her gratefulness and appreciation.
A big Paŧhān doorman, resplendent with uniform, saluted us.
The Paŧhān doorman dashed for a speaking tube built into the wall.
He whistled three times sharply.
“The hat-check girl, Suraiyā,” I said, “She knows something.”
She showed her identity card and stars to the hat check girl.
“Shaguftah Rashīd. Where can we find her?”
It showed it was alright.
“Sorry, ma’am. I don’t know. Someone was asking over the phone awhile back.”
“You know her?”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“Does she work here?”
“She doesn’t need to. She is a major shareholder here. She is one of the proprietors, I must say.”
“Exclusively interested in only the Uncut Hindu Lund you are playing with.” The hat check girl smiled.
“One Man Woman?”
“I think so.”
“How many shares she holds here?”
“I wouldn’t know, ma’am, sorry.”
“A major shareholder ma’am.” The hat check girl also smiled.
“Well, they think it a good business.”
“Yes, I see that. Where are they?”
“This place is supposed to run without anyone in charge?”
“Ordinarily, one or the other of them is here. Tonight it just happens they both are out.”
“Who else would know? The cashier? Some of the waitresses?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t think so. I’ve made inquiries. I tell you who I think would.”
“Who is he?”
“Her younger brother.”
“Living with her?”
“I don’t know, ma’am.”
“Where do we find Iqbāl Rashīd?”
“I think the cashier has his address. Iqbāl Rashīd cashes a check here once in a while.”
We skirted the dance floor, and pushed past the crowded couples moving slowly to the rhythm of the music.
Now we were walking on to the cashier.
The cashier was in a cage between the dining room and the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club.
“You know an Iqbāl Rashīd?”
She hesitated somewhat.
It was quite obvious that she was debating on a course of action.
The cashier controlled herself.
“Sorry for the delay in replying, ma’am. Yes, I know Dr. Iqbāl Rashīd.”
“Dr. Iqbāl Rashīd?”
“Where can we find him?”
“May I ask what he has done, ma’am?”
“You may not. It’s a police business. We seek informations, don’t give them to others.”
“Sorry, ma’am. I don’t know where he is at present.”
“Give me his address.”
“Bājīrāo Mastānī Apartments.”
“I see. Which one?”
“Just a minute.”
She searched in her computer.
“It’s on the second floor, Bājīrāo Mastānī Apartments, 256.”
“His phone number?”
“Not recorded here.”
“You know Iqbāl Rashīd when you see him?”
“He hasn’t been here tonight?”
“Would you have seen him if he had been?”
“Yes, ma’am. Of course.”
“I think we should try Iqbāl Rashīd at Bājīrāo Mastānī Apartments.”
Then she turned to the cashier once again.
“Who’s running this place?”
“Who is the major partner?”
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan. He isn’t here at present but he is expected to be here any minute.”
And why should she have?
“Mr. Muħammad Ålī has a little cabin somewhere.” The cashier volunteered, “He goes there for relaxation.”
“Relaxation, eh? Where is it?”
“I wouldn’t know. It’s up in Green Canyon somewhere.”
“When Imām Muħammad Ħasan comes in, let him call police headquarters and ask for Inspector Prabhāt Deharia. Have him tell Inspector Prabhāt Deharia all he knows about Shaguftah Rashīd and her younger brother, Iqbāl Rashīd. Don’t forget. I’ll call back in a little while. What number do I call?”
The cashier gave her the number duly written in a slip.
“It’s always a pleasure seeing an efficient police officer at work.”
“Thank you.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl also smiled, “We have to handle them in this way. Otherwise they’ll start swapping gossip with us. And we’ll get nowhere. People seem to forget we have emergency calls pouring in in a steady stream. We haven’t time to dillydally, or let other people take the lead. We have to keep them on the defensive to get anywhere ever.”
“I understand.” I smiled.
We squeezed past the dance floor.
“Not the police version exactly.” I smiled, “What’s it?”
“That’s not the truth at all.”
“These organizations are actually run by Pseudo Islamic countries. They have calculatingly adopted this humiliating name to Musalmīn for the club, to defame the Hindus and their horniest Musalmān beloveds.”
“I see. So, the police also know the conspiracy behind it?”
I smiled too.
“What do you think the Pseudo Islamic countries don’t know that the police are aware of their conspiracy?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then why they are still retaining this name for the club?”
“India was the eighth most powerful country not many days before. Neither Saůūdī Årab nor Iran was anywhere in power in the suburb of India. China was second and USA was the number one. Yet, HVSI marched ahead aggressively and now HVSI is the most powerful organization on the entire globe.”
1: Of my Musalmān friends
The rest of the afternoon flashed by in a blur and as we were to depart at seven the next morning, everyone was in bed by eight.
Lying in bed with my seemingly perpetually hard Uncut Hindu Lund in my hand, I hopefully waited for Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ to come to my room and finish what had nearly happened this afternoon, but she never came.
I had the window seat.
Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ was sitting next to me.
Ammī and her girlfriends were sitting together two rows back as the plane lifted off the runway and we settled back for the five-hour flight to Hawaii that would put us in there around ten in the morning.
Although there seemed to be something between Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ and I bubbling just under the surface, neither of us seemed willing to divulge the secret and bring it to the surface as I sat looking out the window and Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ leafed through a magazine.
As we flew along, I rested my head against a pillow and watched out the window as the occasional boat drifted along below us while the monotonous drone of the engines had a tranquilizing effect on me and I felt myself drifting off to sleep.*
Something woke me.
I don’t know what it was, but when I woke up I felt something resting on my shoulder and something soft and warm resting against my arm.
The faint smell of shampoo and delicate fragrance of perfume wafted across my nose as I slowly opened my eyes.
Turning my head slightly, I saw that it was Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ leaning against me with her head resting on my shoulder.
We were both covered with one blanket that she must have covered us with before she went to sleep.
Although I couldn’t see under the blanket, I came to the conclusion that the warm softness brushing against my arm must be her breast.
Alarm bells began to clang inside my head as I felt a sudden charge of electric excitement fire off in my Uncut Hindu Lund.
And it was then that I felt something resting on my thigh.
Her hand was resting on my thigh.
Resting on my thigh only a couple of inches from my rapidly hardening Uncut Hindu Cock.
My ever smart mind was reeling.
It was all so stirring.
The two of us intimately pressed together, touching.
I had never experienced a stronger feeling of love and compassion for My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ .
I could barely breathe or think.
I wanted to do something to show her how I felt, but I was cautious to move.
Cautious that if I did, I would break the spell and frighten her away.
Minutes passed as I sat trying to think of what to do.
Finally, I moved my hand which was resting on the seat between us.
As I did, I felt my trembling fingers brush against the warm smoothness of bare skin.
Should I dare try?
Should I touch her there and see how she would react?
I wanted to know.
I wanted to know if she felt toward me like I felt toward her.
But I was cautious.
Why shouldn’t I be even cautious?
My heart was pounding so hard, I knew that everyone in the plane could hear it.
I was cautious to breathe even.
I didn’t want her to wake up and find me groping her hot, little excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy.
My fingers were moving so slow, I thought it would take the rest of the flight for me to ever touch her there, but I couldn’t risk waking her.
Then my finger brushed the hem of her short skirt which had ridden up so high it was only a couple of inches below the luscious prize hidden under it.
Letting my fingers slip under the skirt, I slowly made my way higher and higher.
It seemed like hours before my fingers finally brushed against the soft, giving flesh between My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ ’s legs.
An electric current shot up my arm as I realized that my fingers were touching bare flesh.
Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ wasn’t wearing any panties!
Was it deliberate?
I thought I was going to pass out as all the blood in my brain went rushing down to my achingly-hard Uncut Hindu Penis.
I’d never been as hard recently as I was at this very Moment.
I thought my Uncut Hindu Lund was going to rip out of my short pants any second as I gently fingered the moist, soft folds of flesh between My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s legs.
Then, I don’t know if I imagined it or if it even happened, but it felt like My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s legs parted ever so slightly.
Then all of a sudden, the plane lurched, startling me and waking Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ.
As Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ jerked upright in her seat, I jerked my hand away from her excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy, and I felt her hand bump against my Uncut Hindu Lund as she pulled her hand off my thigh.
“What was that?” I heard her ask as she looked around me to look out at the window.
As she did, the blanket fell down into her lap and I couldn’t help but notice how much her nipples were tenting her tee shirt.
They were definitely hard and swollen.
From arousal, I wondered?
What else from, if not?
“An air pocket, I guess—” I muttered, cursing whatever it had been that woke her.
Then she looked back at me and smiled.
“Did you have a good nap?” she asked.
“Yeah, uh, did you?”
“Yeah. I hope you didn’t mind me borrowing your shoulder. It looked so inviting and much more comfy than a pillow,” she said, reaching over and giving my thigh an intimate squeeze.
“No, use it anytime you feel like it,” I grinned, reaching over and giving her leg a soft grope just above the knee.
“It’s so nice being around you again, Durgesh,” she sighed. “It’s different now. Now that we’re both, you know, uh, grown up and all.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I was just thinking about that the other day. It really feels different than it did before . . .”
“I’m glad we’re going to get to spend this time together before we go off to University and stuff,” she smiled, giving my leg another little squeeze.
But this time I realized her hand had moved higher up my thigh.
And closer to my aching Uncut Hindu Lund.
And hell, it was deliberate.
We both seemed to be sparring with each other, neither having the courage to tell the other what was really on our minds.
I of course had the necessary courage.
But I wasn’t sure of her reaction.
I didn’t want to mess it up due to my impatience only.
I hadn’t another option, consequently, except to wait and watch.
The plane lurched again, banking as it began its descent down toward Honolulu.
At last, the plane landed and we disembarked.
It was one o’clock before we got out of the airport, had lunch and finally checked into our rooms.
Slipping into my bathing trunks, I stepped down the hallway to Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s room which was the room adjacent to mine.
Ammī and her girlfriends were staying in the room next to Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s.
Knocking on the door, I heard Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ holler out a “Who’s there?”
“It’s the big, bad wolf and I’ve come to eat you up,” I laughed, realizing that there was an awful lot of wishful thinking in the remark.
“Promises, promises,” Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ smarted back as the door came open and she stuck her head around it. “What do you want?” she asked me, standing keeping her excellent exquisite outstanding stunning dazzling young adult Musalmān body hidden from view, I guessed that she didn’t have any clothes on.
“Oh, I just came over to see what you were doing,” I lied. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“I don’t have any clothes on,” she fussed, pushing the door a little more closed.
“Oh, that’s okay with me. I don’t mind,” I chuckled.
What happened next took me totally by surprise and I certainly wasn’t expecting it.
But regrettably I only had a couple of seconds to bask in the awesome splendor of her beauty before she stepped behind the door and partially closed it again.
“There—was that what you wanted?” she smirked.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, God, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ , your fucking gorgeous,” I groaned as my poor, old Uncut Hindu Lund was still twitching and jerking from the electricity jolting through it.
“So what did you really want, Durgesh?” she smiled flirtaceously batting her big, blue eyes at me as I stood out in the hallway trying to catch my breath.
“Sālī, I was going down to the beach and I wanted to see if you wanted to tag along,” I told her.
“Sure, let me throw on a suit and I’ll meet you down there. The life guards might not let me on the beach dressed like this,” she giggled.
“They’d be crazy not to,” I mumbled, knowing that my face had to be the color of cooked beets.
“See yuh—” she snickered, closing the door in my face.
Seeing My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ, naked was like my first visit to the optometrist and getting my first pair of glasses.
I’d seen her countless times in a bikini, but seeing her totally, bare-assed naked was almost like seeing her for the very first time.
Maybe I was just biased because she was My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ , and all, but her big breath-taking ever erect Musalmān boobs with their dusky-pink areolas were far and away the prettiest pair of breath-taking ever erect Musalmān boobs I’d ever seen up close and personal, recently.
And my earlier assumption about the shaving of her mons had been re-confirmed, as it was as smooth and hairless as a baby’s behind.
She was fucking beautiful.
As I shuffled my way down to the beach, my ever smart Uncut Hindu Lund was so hard I could have driven railroad spikes into ties with it.
It was like I was a piece of flotsam caught in the swirling edges of a whirlpool and being slowly, but inexorably drawn toward the whirling core of the churning mass of passion and fervor that now seemed to exist between My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ , and I.
Waiting for Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ to join me, I sat in a beach lounger watching all the pretty, scantily-clad Musalmān Beauties and Musalmān Beauties parading up and down the beach.
I was so horny I would have fucked any of them at the drop of a hat, but down deep inside I knew that there was one Musalmān Beauty that I wanted most of all.
And that Musalmān Beauty was My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ.
Suddenly I heard the tinkle of ice against glass and then found my vision blocked by a pair of tiny, soft hands as I felt a pair of breath-taking ever erect Musalmān boobs brush against my ears.
“Guess who—” I heard Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ giggle as I was enveloped in the fragrance of coconuts.
It smelled like she had taken a bath in sun screen.
And strangely, one of her hands was colder than the other one.
“Uh, Mae West?” I snickered, turning my head to the side slightly and kissing one of the majestic wonders straddling my head.
“Wrong—” Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ laughed, pulling her hands away from my eyes and stepping back away from me. “I guess you don’t win the prize.”
“And just what would that prize have been,” I asked her as she plopped down into the lounger beside me.
“Something you would’ve probably enjoyed as much as I would have,” she softly said as I saw her beautiful Musalmān eyes dart down to bulge of my rather obvious Hindu erection.
As her beautiful Musalmān eyes flitted back up to my face, I reached down and moved things around so that it wouldn’t be quite so obvious.
“You got a fake ID?” I asked her glancing at the drink sitting on the table between us.
“No, I made it myself,” she laughed.
“Better not let Ammī and her girlfriends catch you,” I grinned.
Her parents were pretty liberal about drinking and they had let her drink around the house after she was eighteen.
“They know,” she smiled.
“Oh, really . . .” I grinned back.
“So . . . what did you think? Did you like what you saw?” she smiled at me as she reached over and picked up the tall, skinny glass that she had placed on the table between us when she had sneaked up on me.
“Like it—I fucking loved it, pardon my French—” I told her, picking up my juice and taking a swig off it. “I think I’d like to see more of it,” I boldly flirted.
“Oh, you would, would you—” Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ flirted back, setting her drink back on the table and taking a quick look around the beach to see if anyone was looking.
Then before I knew what was happening, she reached down and pulled the top of her bikini up off her big, beautiful breath-taking ever erect Musalmān boobs.
“You mean like this?” she giggled making the dangling treasures jiggle and quiver in the bright, afternoon sunlight.
I was stunned as I gawked down at her Musalmān breasts in awe-struck adoration.
They seemed to be growing more and more beautiful every time I got to see them.
“Uh, uh, cover them up, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ,” I muttered, not wanting her too, but jealously not wanting anyone else to see them.
And especially not Ammī and her girlfriends, should they stumble upon us.
That would ruin everything if they knew what seemed to be going on between their daughter and me.
“What, you don’t want to see them anymore?” she fussed, pouting out her lower lip as she tugged the bikini back down over her Musalmān breasts.
“What if Ammī and her girlfriends saw you do that?” I groaned, staring down at her now-covered Musalmān breasts again as she picked her drink back up.
“They didn’t,” Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ said, taking a sip on her drink. “I think that they were busy doing something else,” she laughed. “I heard some weird, bumping sounds coming from their room just before I came down, so I think they were occupied with each other.”
“Ammī and her girlfriends?” I groaned, trying to picture the two of them in bed going at it.
This whole thing was getting crazier and crazier by the minute.
My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Ammī, Rizwānah Hāshmī, and Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s father up in their room fucking while My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ, and I were sitting out on the beach casually discussing it.
“Yeah,” she laughed. “They do it a lot, you know.”
“Pardon me?” I asked her, not believing what she had just told me.
“Yeah, I can hear them at night at home. They do it just about every night,” she smiled, taking a suggestive suck on the straw sticking out of her drink.
“Well, it’s not like they’re in their nineties or something, I guess. They’re only in their forties, so . . .” I mumbled, letting my eyes brush over her Musalmān breasts again.
“Whoops. Maybe I was wrong. Here they come now,” Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ said, looking over my shoulder and waving.
“Hi, Durgesh,” My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Ammī, Rizwānah Hāshmī called out as I turned and watched My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Ammī, Rizwānah Hāshmī, and Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ trudging through the sand toward us.
“So what are you two doing?” Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ asked as they stepped up beside my lounger.
“Just hanging out,” I smiled, feeling a mischief spread out across my cheeks as the picture of them up in their room fucking flashed back through my spinning brain.
“You’d better put some more sun screen on,” My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Ammī, Rizwānah Hāshmī, warned. “Your face looks like it’s already burned.”
“Uh, yeah, uh, I’ll do that—” I lied, trying to keep my eyes off My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Ammī, Rizwānah Hāshmī’s mountainous Musalmān breasts that were straining against her tiny bikini top that was having to work overtime to try and support the giants.
“We were just going to have dinner and wondered if you two wanted to join us,” she smiled, seeming oblivious to my dilemma.
“Uh, sure,” I said, pushing up out of my lounger.
Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ and I joined Ammī and her girlfriends for dinner which thankfully passed quickly.
I’d never really thought about Ammī and her girlfriends as, well as sexually active, but Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s revelation that “they do it a lot, you know” made me feel strangely uncomfortable around them.*
It had been a long day and my time schedules were all messed up.
Afghanistan, California, and now Hawaii, I didn’t know what time it was and a night of TV seemed preferable to floundering around on a dance floor in one of the many nightclubs sprinkled around Waikiki Beach.
As a group, we all rode the elevator up to our floor and made our way down to our rooms.
Then with promises to join together at breakfast tomorrow, we all made our ways to our rooms.
Pitching my room key card on the coffee table, I turned on the TV.
Kicking my loafers off, I plopped down on the couch, kicked my feet up on the coffee table and leaned back to watch TV.
It was Monday night and there wasn’t anything on worth watching except, strangely enough,Hawaii Five-0 and it didn’t come on for another thirty minutes.
Sitting on the couch absent-mindedly thinking back over the day, I couldn’t seem to get the image of naked extremely beautiful Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ out of my mind.
That brief but dazzling display of naked Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān flesh had burned itself so deeply into my memory banks, I knew that if I lived to be a hundred I would remember every tantalizing detail of her exquisite body.
And then there had been the blatant display of her Musalmān breasts down on the beach.
That had taken me completely by surprise.
I was beginning to think that maybe Raħmān Sheikħ’s sweet, little Sister might be somewhat of a Uncut Hindu Prick tease.
Just then I thought I heard a soft tapping on my door.
It had been so soft, I didn’t know if I was imagining it or it had really been someone knocking.
Getting up to see, I heard it again only louder this time.
Was it Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ?
Or Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s parents?
Who else could it be?
Slipping the chain out of its slot, I unlocked the door and pulled it open.
A rush of excitement and expectation washed over me as I saw that it was Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ standing out in the hallway.
She was wearing the same pair of black, satin pajamas she had been wearing yesterday morning.
For some strange convoluted reason, that seemed to have been years ago, not yesterday.
“Hi, what’cha doing?” I heard her ask.
“Just watching TV . . . come on in?” I grinned, stepping back out of the doorway so she could step inside my room.
“Sure,” she said, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of her parent’s room.
Closing the door behind her, I slipped the chain back into its slot and re-locked the door.
“So what were you watching?” she asked me as she padded over to the little wet bar beside the small refrigerator sitting by the TV. “You mind if I make myself a drink?”
“Sure, go ahead and knock yourself out. I was just waiting for McGarret and Danno to come on,” I told her flopping back down on the couch and watching her make her drink.
The light from the lamp was smemering off her black satin pajamas highlighting every delightful curve and swoop of her excellent exquisite outstanding stunning dazzling young adult Musalmān body as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a Coke.
“Want me to refresh your juice,” she asked me as she filled a glass with ice cubes and then twisted the cap off one of the little bottles lining the back of the bar.
“Sure,” I grinned starting to get up to carry my juice over to her.
“I’ll get it,” she told me, turning and stepping toward me, rolling her hips with exaggerated gusto as she strutted back over to the coffee table.
As she did, I could see that the two top buttons on her pajama top were now unbuttoned as her big Musalmān breasts rolled and bobbled under the thin black satin.
And, as it was with my Uncut Hindu Lund, I could see that her nipples were swollen and stiff as they tented the smemering satin.
Leaning down, bending at the waist, she bent over to pick up my glass.
As she did, the laws of physics took over and the front of her pajamas billowed open revealing her beautiful, dangling Musalmān breasts.
Looking up at me, she smiled, pausing as I gawked down at the dangling Musalmān treasures while they gently bobbled and bumped against one another until at last, she stood back up and went swishing back over to the bar.
Finally, I had, had enough.
I had to tell her what I thought.
“Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ, I hope that this doesn’t sound to forward or anything, but you’ve got the prettiest Musalmān breasts I’ve ever seen,” I mumbled.
“What did you say?” I heard her ask as she turned toward me making her breath-taking ever erect Musalmān boobs roll and sway down inside her pajamas.
“I said that you had the prettiest Musalmān breasts I’ve ever seen. They’re gorgeous.”
“Do you really think so,” she smiled and then turned to face away from me while she finished refreshing my drink.
“Yes, I do,” I inanely muttered, feeling a warm feeling spreading out over my cheeks.
Then when she turned back around, I saw that all four buttons on her pajama top were unbuttoned and the top was dangling down off her shoulders with about a three-inch gap between the unbuttoned edges.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, God, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ, why are you teasing me this way?” I groaned, watching the opening fluttering open and shut as she sauntered back toward the couch.
“You want me to button it back up?” she asked, the look on her face suddenly serious. “I will . . . if you want me to.”
“No, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ, but I have to know—what is all this leading to?” I asked as she melted down on the couch beside me and set both drinks down on the coffee table in front of us.
Then, to my stunned amazement, she reached down and picked my hand up from my lap.
Looking down, I watched as she eased my hand down under the edge of her pajama top.
A jolt of electricity fired off down in my Uncut Hindu Lund as my fingers brushed up against the warm, giving flesh of her breast.
“Touch it, Durgesh—” she whispered, gently pressing her breast against my hand as her hand curled around behind my head and pulled me to her.
Sparks popped and arced from the tiny expanse of skin when our lips touched.
My trembling fingers found the springy, hard jut of her nipple almost at the same time her tongue forced its way into my mouth.
My heart was pounding so hard, I thought it was going to burst out of my chest.
And the roaring in my ears became so loud, I thought I was going to pass out.
I had never experienced a level of excitement this intense recently.
I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe.
All I could do was gently, lovingly caress the hard, rubbery nub pressing against my fingers as Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s hot, probing tongue swirled and whirled around inside my mouth.
Then as suddenly as it had begun it was over as Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ leaned back and scooted back down to the other end of the couch.
Stunned, I watched her pajamas top billow out as she reached back down in front of me to retrieve her drink.
“I can’t stand much more of this, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ,” I groaned.
“You want me to go back to my room?” she asked me.
“Just tell me what you want, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ. That’s all I ask.” I was risking that I might lose everything if I rushed her into a decision.
“Oh, Durgesh, I don’t know what I want. I’m so confused. All this is so exciting and so, so taboo, but I’m afraid,” she sniffed as a big, glistening tear slowly trickled down her cheek. “You’re my brother’s friend and . . . oh, Durgesh it would be so wrong. It hurt so much the first time and I’m afraid it will hurt again. And what if someone finds out?”
I couldn’t decide what to tell her.
I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything in my whole life, but I would never do anything to hurt her.
It had to be of her own free will.
I wouldn’t coerce her into it.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything so much in my whole life . . . but, I won’t do anything until you’re one hundred percent sure that it’s what you want to do,” I told her, wanting to take her in my arms and convince her that it would be okay.
But something, one last vestige of decency was holding me back, making me maintain my distance to leave the decision up to her.
“I don’t know what to do, Durgesh,” she told me, sniffing, wiping the back of her hand across her cheek to wipe away the tears and then taking a swig off her drink.
“Do whatever you want, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ. Whatever you say, I’ll abide by it. If you say that you don’t want to . . . or can’t, I’ll understand. It is a big decision and I want you to feel comfortable with what you decide.”
“Durgesh, this is so hard. I thought it would be easy, but it’s the most difficult decision I’ve ever had to make. I want you, uh, us to . . . so much, but what if it’s a mistake and we find out that we’re, we’re not right for each other? It’s not blackboard where you can just erase it and start all over again. Whatever we do, we’re stuck with each other. It’s not like we can just break it off and go our separate ways. We’re Hindu man and Musalmān Beauty, not boyfriend and Musalmān girlfriend. Either way, it’s final once we decide what we’re going to do.”
“You’ve got all week to decide, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ. And if you haven’t made your mind up by then, well, there’s two months before University, and if that’s not enough time, we’ll be going to the same University. So time is not an issue here.” I explained to her. “I’ll wait for your decision before I do anything.”
Maybe if her mind was really into it and she realized that time wasn’t a factor, maybe it would help her make up her mind, I hopefully thought.
“This is not the way I planned it to end tonight, Durgesh,” Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ told me, her voice barely above a whisper. “It was supposed to be . . . supposed to be so different,” she said and I could hear the anguish in her voice.
Then as I sat watching, not knowing what to say or to do, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ brought her drink up to her lips, tossed her head back, finished it in one quick gulp and set her glass down on the coffee table.
I wanted to take her in my arms and end all this nonsense, but I couldn’t.
She had to do this on her own volition.
I would not coerce her into it.
“I’m really sorry, Durgesh,” I heard her sob as she sat buttoning her pajamas back up.
Then she pushed up onto her feet and almost ran over to the door.
It was over, I told myself as I watched her fumbling with the chain lock.
When it was undone, she grabbed hold of the doorknob and jerked the door open.
She started to step out into the hallway, but stopped.
As she turned back to face me, I could see the angst in her face.
As she stood there looking at me with tears streaming down her cheeks I saw her mouth the words, “I love you so much . . . I’m so sorry . . .” Then she was gone.
My brain was mush.
We had been so close, yet so far away from turning our coquetry into something else.
Turning it into the real thing.
But now it was done.
Our secret desires were all laid out on the table.
It was Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s turn to play her cards and see if we had a winning hand . . . or find out we’d just gone bust.
Getting up, I mindlessly shuffled over to the door, slowly slipped the chain lock back into its slot and locked the door.
I wanted to hit something.
Hit something and vent some of the annoyance I was feeling.
But I didn’t.
As I picked up our glasses to take them over to the sink, I noticed that something was missing.
Where was my key card?
I knew that I had tossed it on the coffee table when I had come back from dinner.
Bending down, I looked under the table thinking that it had somehow gotten knocked off while I had been watching TV.
But there was no card.
Where had it gone?
It was like a brick hitting me squarely between the eyes.
Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ?
Had Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ taken it?
And if she had, what was she planning to do with it?
Was she going to come back?
Was she going to use it to get back into my room later tonight?
A sizzle of expectant excitement shot through my Uncut Hindu Lund that had been slowly subsiding from its previous aching hardness.
What other explanation could there be?
Suddenly I was alive with anticipation.
But I had to be sure, I told myself as I dropped to my knees on the floor by the coffee table.
Bending down, looking under the table, I reached under it and swiped my hands from side to side searching everywhere, making sure that I hadn’t overlooked it.
There was no card!
It was gone.
She must have taken it.
Standing back up, I looked over at the door expecting to see her come stepping back inside with the card in her hand and a mischievous smile on her lips.
Then I saw the chain was locked.
If she did come back later, she wouldn’t be able to get in.
Stepping back across the room, I quickly unfastened the chain lock.
Smiling, I watched the little chain swing back and forth a couple of times before it came to rest dangling down from the lock.
This was all a little foolish, and dangerous, I told myself.
What if a burglar sneaked in?
He, or she could rob me blind.
But hoping that Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ might come back, it was a risk I was willing to take.
Flicking off all the lights except the little night light by the door, I hurried down to the bathroom.
I took the shortest, quickest shower in the history of mankind and Moments later; I was lying in my bed waiting.
Waiting to see what Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ had in mind.
The anticipation of her return had already worked its magic on my Uncut Hindu Lund which was lying on my belly, hard and stiff.
I was ready.
Ready to show Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ that making love didn’t have to be like it had been between her and that bastard, Muħammad Åbdullah.
I would show her how love was supposed to be.
I hadn’t been in bed more than ten minutes when I thought I heard something.
My heart was pounding so hard though; I could barely hear anything over it and the roar of blood coursing through my fevered brain.
Listening as hard as I could, I thought I heard the door being closed.
Was it Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ?
Or was it a thief?
There was no way to tell.
I would just have to wait and find out.
I couldn’t make anything out in the dark as I lay there waiting.
The only light was the light coming from the nightlight out by the front door and all that provided was the faint outline of the door in the dark of the room.
Then I saw the shadowy outline of a figure step into the doorway.
Even in the dim light, I could see that outline of the body was that of a Musalmān Beauty.
It was Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ.
I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest as I lay watching her standing in the doorway.
As I lay waiting, I realized that I had stopped breathing.
Taking a quick breath, I saw Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ hesitantly step into my bedroom and slowly make her way toward my bed.
The bale of cotton that had suddenly appeared in my mouth was so big you could have made a mattress out of it as I tried to swallow and found I couldn’t.
Finally, she was so close I could have reached out and touched her as I felt the bed shake when her leg bumped up against it.
“Durgesh . . .” I heard Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ whisper.
“Yes, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ, I’m here,” I whispered back afraid to make a noise or touch her, afraid I would frighten her away.
“I came back,” she said in a low, husky voice that was quavering with emotion.
“Don’t be frightened,” I told her as I reached out to her. “I won’t hurt you . . . I promise,” I told her in the most soothing, soft voice I could find.
Then my fingertips brushed against her leg.
But it wasn’t warm skin I was touching.
It was the silky smoothness of nylon.
She was wearing nylons!
For some strange, bizarre reason, that made this all seem even more exciting than it already was.
What else was she wearing?
I had to see.
I wanted to see how she had come to me.
“Can I turn the light on? I want to see you. I want to see how beautiful you are,” I groaned.
But I didn’t have to move as I was suddenly blinded when the lamp on the nightstand by the bed flashed on.
Blinking my eyes, trying to get them to work again, it took a good five or ten seconds before I could see again.
When I could see I saw Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ standing by the bed looking down at me with a frightened, panicky look on her pretty face.
She looked terrified.
“Eīshān, God, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ , you’re so beautiful,” I moaned, letting my eyes play down her excellent exquisite outstanding stunning dazzling young adult Musalmān body as I lay looking up at her.
Her long, auburn hair was hanging down over her shoulders and her big, beautiful Musalmān breasts were bare, softly quivering in cadence with the rushed rhythm of her breathing.
As my eyes moved lower, I saw that she had a lacy, little garter belt wrapped around her waist with six long, elastic garters stretching down to the tops of her sheer, black hose.
Somehow, the black garters stretching down, framing her little, pink excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy made it seem even more vulnerable and delicate.
In the harsh glare of the light from the lamp, I could see that the fleshy, pink lips of her excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy were glistening wetly, covered with the evidence of her arousal.
And down below, her tiny feet were encased in a pair of black, patent-leather stilettos with at least four-inch spiked heels.
“Do I look silly dressed like this?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, Oh, God, no, Honey, you look beautiful,” I groaned, reaching out, wrapping my arms around her hips and pulling her against me.
As I did, my lips quickly found the soft, moist succulence at the tip of her flat, firm belly.
Snaking my tongue out between my lips, I found the hard nub of her ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān clit and flicked it.
“Oh, Durgesh,” I heard her groan as her hips twitched and she pressed herself against my face.
I wanted to taste her, to touch her like this, to smell her, but laying the way I was it was very awkward.
Leaning back away from her, I let go of her and grabbed hold of the sheet that was draped across me.
Flinging it back off me, I sat up and swung my legs off over the edge of the bed.
“It’s big—bigger than his—” I heard Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ gasp and I saw that she was staring down at my Uncut Hindu Lund as it jutted up from between my legs.
“I won’t hurt you, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ,” I whispered pushing up onto my feet in front of her.
Gently clutching hold of her waist, I shuffled us around until the backs of her long, curvaceous legs were pressed against the bed.
Then taking hold of her by the shoulders, I gently, but forcefully pushed her down onto the bed.
“What? What do you want me to do, Durgesh?” she asked me as she slowly melted down onto the edge of the bed. “Tell me what to do.”
“Lay down,” I whispered, continuing to force her down onto her back.
Finally she was lying sprawled out, half on and half off the bed with her butt resting on its edge.
Her long legs were stretched out in front of her, bent at the knees with the soles of her stiletto high-heels resting on the carpet.
As she lay looking up at me with that same frightened, panicky look in her beautiful Musalmān eyes, I slowly knelt down on the floor in front of her spectacular, smooth Musalmān legs.
Reaching out, I gently slipped my hands down between her knees and began to push them apart.
Strangely, I felt the muscles in her spectacular, smooth Musalmān legs tighten.
“What do you want me to do, Durgesh?” she asked in a quavering voice.
“Spread yourself for me, Extremely beautiful Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ. Open yourself so that your Hindu lover can show his love for you,” I murmured feeling the resistance melt away as her spectacular, smooth Musalmān legs slowly parted to bare the secrecy of her Musalmān Sex to me.
I was almost overcome by my love for My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ , as the beautiful rose between her spectacular, smooth Musalmān legs unfurled to expose the cream-filled furrow between the delicate, pink lips.
Leaning down, starting at her nylon-clad knee, I slowly kissed my way up her thigh toward the precious treasure that awaited the touch of my Hindu lips.
Softly nibbling and kissing, I made my way higher and higher across the expanse of soft, bare Musalmān skin between the top of her stocking and her waiting excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy.
Softly blowing, I let my warm breath wash over the wet, sticky folds of flesh.
I heard her gasp, her fingers digging down into the mattress as I felt her squirm.
Then, slipping my arms under her spectacular, smooth Musalmān legs, I lifted them up and gently deposited them on my shoulders.
I could feel the backs of Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s stockinged calves and her high heels brushing against my back as I inhaled deeply and savored the heady, musky-sweet smell of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān sex.
Leaning lower, I gave her oozing excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy a long, firm kiss, and then another, feeling her soft outer lips opening under my lips.
“Durgesh,” she softly moaned again and then made a surprised little noise as my Uncut Hindu Lund found her ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān clit again.
Lashing the swollen nub with my Uncut Hindu Lund , I felt her shudder deeply as her fingers clawed deeper into the mattress.
As I rubbed, I felt the back of her heels dig into my back as she tried to find the leverage to press herself against my eagerly-rubbing Uncut Hindu Lund .
Burrowing my Uncut Hindu Lund into the excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy that I had been dreaming about ever since I had returned, I lost myself in the sweet, silky velvet of the soft, slippery flesh.
I could feel the heat emanating from the opening of her excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy as I probed it with my stiffened Uncut Hindu Lund .
Her spectacular, smooth Musalmān legs were trembling, her cute, excellent, exquisite, firm, round, spectacular, smooth Musalmān thighs squeezing against my waist tighter and tighter as my Uncut Hindu Lund eagerly explored her soft Musalmān folds.
“Is it good,” I asked her, lifting my Uncut Hindu Lund long enough to murmur.
“Allah, yā Allah! God, yes,” she groaned out as I felt the erect, exposed little nub under my Uncut Hindu Lund .
The Moment I felt it, I let my Uncut Hindu Lund flutter, knowing exactly where to touch her to bring her the most pleasure.
Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ seemed lost in her own, little world as I heard a choked gasp waft down to my ears.
Her Musalmān ass was wriggling and squirming around so wildly I was afraid she might slip off the bed as I rubbed on the precious Musalmān delicacy between her trembling legs.
Chancing a look up, I saw that her big, flattened Musalmān breasts were heaving up and down with anxious, excited breaths, as her wide beautiful Musalmān eyes stared straight up at the ceiling.
Wanting to prolong her excitement and protract her pleasure, I slowed my Uncut Hindu Lund, giving her gentle, luxurious rubbing and felt her shudder as her beautiful Musalmān eyes drifted shut.
I exulted in the sheer Sexuality of it all, my own arousal throbbing and pulsating down between my legs as I burrowed my Uncut Hindu Lund deeper, swirling it lightly around her ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān clit and then dipping it inside her.
Reveling in the sweet, tangy flavor that coated my Uncut Hindu Lund , I ran it from the top of her slit to the bottom, rubbing it from side to side, exploring every little nook and cranny of her excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy.
As I did, I was finding many sensitive spots judging from her shaky breathing and little gasps of pleasure.
I knew that I could do this forever and I never wanted to stop.
Letting my Uncut Hindu Lund slide deep inside her, I almost moaned, reveling in the heady flavor of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān sex.
The sweet tartness of the nectar flowing from her Panjvaqtah Namāzī excellent exquisite ardent Musalmān Choot and the excited scent of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān sex was filling my head and my mind as I swirled my now-slippery Uncut Hindu Lund over her ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān clit.
I heard another soft moan escape out from her lips as I slowly accelerated.
Rubbing the little bead out of its fleshy sheath, I vibrated my Uncut Hindu Lund on the tip and felt Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s hips lift off the bed while her heels dug into my back.
I could sense her finish was near as she strained against me, grunting and groaning with the effort.
Then, all of a sudden, her hips lurched as she grunted softly and gasped.
Her hips jerked several more times, twitching, lurching while I enjoyed deeply of the delicious nectar flowing from her contracting, dilating excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy on my Uncut Hindu Lund .
I lost track of time and didn’t know how long it had lasted for her, but finally another deep shudder spasmed through her excellent exquisite outstanding stunning dazzling young adult Musalmān body and she slowly began to relax, her excellent exquisite outstanding stunning dazzling young adult Musalmān body going totally limp, her breathing suddenly deep and labored.
Lingering between her outstretched legs, I gently rubbed her more before I slowly lifted my waist off her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān sex and looked up to find her big, blue eyes looking down at me.
As they did, they had that unfocused, dreamy look in them that Musalmān Beauties have in their eyes after they come.
“Was it good for you, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ?” I softly asked as I eased her spectacular, smooth Musalmān legs down off my shoulders and set her feet back down on the floor.
“Oh, Durgesh, Durgesh, it, it was the best one I’ve ever had,” she gushed. “Kiss me—
Struggling up to my feet, I stretched out my arms to support myself as I leaned down over her and found her rose-petal soft lips with mine.
As I did, I felt her hot, little tongue force its way into my mouth.
I thought I was going to pass out from all the blood pouring down into my steel-hard Uncut Hindu Lund.
It was so hard, it ached.
Finally, gasping for breath we mutually broke the kiss.
As we did, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ dug her elbows down in the mattress and using her elbows and the pointy heels of her high heels pushed herself back onto the middle of the bed to make room for me.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ?” I asked her, wanting her more than I’d ever wanted anything in my whole life, but wanting one last confirmation before the final desecration. “What do you want, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ? What do you want?” I frantically asked knowing that if I didn’t do something soon; my Uncut Hindu Lund was going to be wastefully spurting its creamy load out into the air.
“I want you to come inside me, Durgesh . . . I want to feel like a Musalmān Beauty again. I don’t want to feel like Muħammad Åbdullah’s slut. I want to be my Hindu lover’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān lover,” she whispered, smiled, slowly running her hand down to her excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy and fingering the lips of her hot, oozing excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy open. “Come inside your friend’s extremely beautiful sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ.”
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, Oh, God,” I groaned, dropping down onto my all fours over her.
Dipping my hips, I lowered my Uncut Hindu Lund down toward the tiny, forbidden opening between My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister; Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s outstretched legs.
Would it fit, I frantically wondered, staring down at the small opening as she pushed my Uncut Hindu Lund down until the big, goo-slathered head brushed up against the opening of her excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy.
She had said he hurt her.
And she had also said that I was bigger.
“Put it in, Durgesh, put it in me,” she gurgled out, lifting her hips and pushing her excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy back against the tapered head of my Uncut Hindu Dick.
Surely I was going to heaven for this, I told myself as I lowered my hips and pushed my Uncut Hindu Lund down into the strangling tightness of My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ ’s tight, almost-virgin excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy.
A frown etched her forehead as she strained back against my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I’d never had an excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy as tight and wet as My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s recently, as I pushed into her forcing the evil creature down into the clinging Musalmān depths of her inviolate Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān vagina.
Then suddenly, I felt the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān muscles encircling the opening relax and my big, hard Uncut Hindu Cock went sliding down into the clutching tightness of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī excellent exquisite ardent Musalmān Choot.
I couldn’t stop the plunge and my Uncut Hindu Lund went sliding down into the core of her Musalmān Beautyhood, stopping only when my hairy Hindu groin nudged up against her hairless, shaven Musalmān mons.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, God, I love you, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ —” I groaned out, grinding myself against her, slowly twirling my hard, stiff Uncut Hindu Lund around in the tight, muck of her excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy.
“It doesn’t hurt—it doesn’t hurt—” she whimpered, looking up at me as if I had performed some kind of miracle. “It feels good. So, so good—” she murmured as I felt her tight, little excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy clutch down around my embedded Uncut Hindu Lund.
I ought to kill that son-of-a-bitch, I angrily thought.
He’d given poor Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ six months of hell before I came back to save her.
I think he’d actually convinced Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ that she was a slut and his entire problem was her fault.
My poor, sweet Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ, I’ll never let another man hurt you, my extremely beautiful Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ.
“Yesssss . . .” she hissed out, clutching her excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy tighter down around my Uncut Hindu Lund as she pushed herself back up at me. “I am your Musalmān Beauty . . . you made me feel whole again, My Hindu Lover . . .”
“So hot! So tight!” I gasped out, jerking my hips back and pulling my Uncut Hindu Lund back down the juice-flooded channel of her hot, little excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy.
“So big! So hard!” she groaned out, grabbing at my Uncut Hindu Lund with her excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy as I sent it plunging back down into the searing heat of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī excellent exquisite ardent Musalmān Choot.
In a sick, twisted way, it was almost like giving her back the innocence Muħammad Åbdullah had stolen from her as I worked my Uncut Hindu Lund in and out of her at a feverish pace.
Somehow, it was as if I had given her self-dignity back to her.
I had given it back to her.
She was truly my Musalmān Beauty now, I feverishly thought as our bellies ground together.
We were now one, joined in the sickest way imaginable.
Hindu man and Musalmān Beauty.
Man and Musalmān Beauty.
Ashvinātam lovers taking part in a sanctification of all that was good and decent.
“My Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ . . . my Dear, Sweet Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ ,” I groaned out, groveling as I fucked My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ , with deep, powerful Hindu strokes.
“Yes, oh, yes, Durgesh, yes, like that! Fuck me like that . . .” she hissed, thrusting herself back up at me.
I felt myself flying.
Flying above into a heavenly place no man ever found himself.
I felt myself falling in love with the beautiful Musalmān Beauty who lay below me.
The one Musalmān Beauty in the whole world I had every right to love this way.
It was the fiery, possessive love a man feels for his lover.
The love that could consume a man and drive him crazy with envy and possessiveness.
I wouldn’t ever let another man touch her . . . No other man would ever have her this way . . . I would kill to prevent that!
But that was something we could worry about later.
Now, I must bring her pleasure.
Show her that our love was so much more.
Show her that I would never mistreat her like Muħammad Åbdullah had.
After all he was a Musalmān.
I must give her another orgasm.
I must show her what it was like to be a Musalmān Beauty.
What it was like to be loved by a man who would do anything to bring her pleasure.
Stiffening my arms, I looked down on her as I furiously worked my hips back and forth, driving my Uncut Hindu Lund in and out of her hot, slavering excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy.
She had her spectacular, smooth Musalmān legs bent at the knees, feet resting between my calves, and thrusting them down onto the bed as she humped herself up at me.
Her head was thrown back and her beautiful Musalmān eyes had a wild, crazed look in them as she fucked herself back at me.
I could feel her sharp fingernails digging into my skin as she pushed and pulled on me, urging me on, urging me to fuck her harder and harder.
The fiery pressure down inside my flopping Hindu balls was building and I knew that I was about to blow.
“Yes—Yes—oh, Yes, Durgesh—Yes—” she hissed, her fingers clawing, digging into my sweaty skin. “Make me come, Durgesh, make me come,” she pleaded, straining, thrusting herself back up at me as I mercilessly pounded my Uncut Hindu Lund in and out of My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ ’s hungry Panjvaqtah Namāzī excellent exquisite ardent Musalmān Choot.
Fighting to hold back the impending explosion, I worked harder, driving my charged Uncut Hindu Prick in and out of her at a feverish pace.
“Come, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ, come, my sweet,” I panted, humping her for all I was worth. “I—can’t—hold—it—back—much—longer—” I grunted out between thrusts.”
“Almost, Durgesh, almost, I can feel it, I feel it . . .” she growled out.
Biting her lower lip, she gazed up into my eyes with a distant, faraway, unfocused look.
I could see and feel that she was nearing release.
The muscles in her arms and legs were already quivering and straining as she fought closer and closer to her finish.
Her beautiful breath-taking ever erect Musalmān boobs were bouncing up and down wildly in rhythm with the pounding attack I was inflicting on her excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy.
But she was taking it all without a hint of complaint.
I could feel the pool of molten cream down inside my balls growing hotter and hotter as they flopped back and forth slapping up against My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s sweaty, upturned beautiful Musalmān butt.
My great ashvinātam love for Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ was filling my brain with its divine power.
It was a love that had shoved aside my brotherly love for her and replaced it with this . . . this divine love of her and her excellent exquisite outstanding stunning dazzling young adult Musalmān body.
It was a love I had never felt before.
And now that it was happening, it was quickly overwhelming me.
I would never be the same.
Now that she was mine, I could never share a love so deep with anyone else . . . ever!
Then I felt her slowly lift her long legs up into the air and gently drape them down over my back.
As she did, I could feel the little spiked heels of her shoes gently tapping against my butt every time I drew back to send my Uncut Hindu Penis back down into the strangling tightness of her excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy.
I could feel the burning precursor of my eruption filling my balls with its incandescent insistence.
Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ was straining up against me, thrusting herself up at me on every deep, thrusting stroke.
Fighting to hold it back, I had to bring her over the top first.
Give her the pleasure and satisfaction she so wanted.
Then, all of a sudden, I felt her excellent exquisite outstanding stunning dazzling young adult Musalmān body stiffen as she thrust herself up against me and pulled me down against her.
“Oh—Yessssssss—” she hissed out, digging her heels down into my ass and forcing me even deeper into the depths of her spasming Panjvaqtah Namāzī excellent exquisite ardent Musalmān Choot as it grabbed and clutched at my buried Uncut Hindu Prick.
“Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ,” I bellowed out as a fireball of electricity burst down inside my balls making my Uncut Hindu Lund explode down deepest inside My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ.
This was the Moment, I frantically thought.
This Moment that would forever be burnt into my memory.
The Moment Raħmān Sheikħ’s beautiful Sister and I had consummated our ashvinātam wedlock.
Suddenly, as if a shock wave had washed over me, I felt my whole body begin to liquefy, morphing into a molten mass of semen as it spurted out through my jerking, twitching Uncut Hindu Lund into the sacred sanctity of My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ’s almost-virginal purity.
“Yesssss . . . yessss, Durgesh, yessssss!” she screamed out, holding me clutched against her as she quivered and shook below me while she was being incinerated by the fiery heat of her orgasm.
But much too soon, it was over!
The sanctification was done!
I had possessed her and made her mine . . . my Musalmān Beauty!
She was no longer just My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ, . . . now she was my lover!
“Durgesh,” she murmured, her beautiful Musalmān eyes finally fluttering open as she looked up into my eyes.
The love flowing between us was overpowering.
I had never felt such passion . . . such love!
It consumed me, filling me with its addictive power.
I wanted to tell her how I felt . . . but I couldn’t find the words.
Simple words couldn’t express the profound deepness of the love I felt for her.
I wanted to tell her just what she meant to me, but there weren’t words that could adequately describe how much I loved her!
Now that we had stepped over that fine line between lust and love, I knew it was going to be almost impossible to balance on the delicate, tightrope of emotions we had created.
How could we possibly disguise our love for each other in front of her parents?
Finally, my mind in superiority, I slowly backed my softening Uncut Hindu Cock out of her cum-drenched excellent exquisite outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussy and rolled over beside her.
“What now, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ?” I finally asked as we lay beside each other, our breathing and our heart rates slowly returning to normal.
“I don’t know, Durgesh, but I don’t want this to ever end,” she whispered, reaching over and letting her fingertips slowly trail down the line of my jaw. “How do you feel about it, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties?”
“I’ve never loved like this before, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ,” I groaned. “It’s fair. you are My friend, Raħmān Sheikħ’s Sister, Nādirah Naåīmuddīn Sheikħ. I’d Live in Relationship with you and never let you out of my sight.”
“Oh, Durgesh, Durgesh, Durgesh,” she softly murmured, snuggling up against me and giving me a soft, lingering kiss on the cheek. “We’ll find a way . . . I know we will.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
1: Of my Musalmān friends
Åādilah Sheikħ trailed off, letting go of Ħamīdah Sheikħ and stepping back away from her.
“”Well, I never… And just how long has this been going on?”
“Only since yesterday, if you have to know,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ said, leaning back and proudly thrusting her big, firm breasts out at her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ. “And how long have you been planning to sneak over here and proposition my Hindu lover? Or are you just going to a masquerade party dressed like that?”
“I would never have guessed,” Åādilah Sheikħ said, “Not in a million years. And it’s none of your business how I’m dressed.”
I couldn’t decide what to do.
I stood there with my hands at my side, my robe open and my Uncut Hindu Cock standing proudly between my legs.
I smiled as I watched the two Musalmān Beauties who held my future course in their hands.
“What are you doing here dressed in those things?” Ħamīdah Sheikħ smirked at her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ, still trying to get her to answer. “You were going to seduce my Hindu lover weren’t you?”
“I guess we’re all guilty as sin,” Åādilah Sheikħ finally admitted, holding her head in her hands. “We can’t breathe a word of this to any one. Can we all keep this a secret?”
“We had planned on that, until you came along,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ said sarcastically.
“Well, I’m sorry that I disturbed you,” Åādilah Sheikħ said quietly, slowly getting to her feet. “I will let you go back to whatever evil, twisted thing that you were doing before I so foolishly interrupted you…”
“You came over here to fuck Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s Supreme Experienced Hindu lover, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! Didn’t you?” Ħamīdah Sheikħ said, reaching over and running her fingers down her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ’s tight little gorgeous Musalmān ass. “So why don’t you stay?”
“My…Ħamīdah Sheikħ…you certainly have a foul mouth,” Åādilah Sheikħ scolded her, brushing her niece’s hand away from her scantily clad derriere. “Yes…I did come over here to…fuck…fuck…your Hindu lover as you so crudely put it…but I hadn’t planned on sharing Durgesh with my niece.”
“So,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ laughed tensely, moving her hand down to her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ’s long shapely leg and caressing it through the silky hose. “If you were going to seduce my Hindu lover if I hadn’t been here, just pretend I’m not here…I’ll just watch.”
“Ħamīdah Sheikħ. Don’t you have a decent bone in your body?” Åādilah Sheikħ gasped.
“I had a very decent bone in my body until you interrupted us,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ giggled wickedly. “Didn’t I, Durgesh, Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s Supreme Experienced Hindu lover, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties?”
“Allah Allah, Ħamīdah Sheikħ. You are a brazen little pussy aren’t you?” Åādilah Sheikħ said, turning to look at her Hindu brother-in-law standing in the doorway with my big, standing Uncut Hindu Cock proudly between my hairy legs.
“Durgesh?” she mumbled, feeling foolish for being taunted by a teenager.
“Wouldn’t it be better,” I smiled. “If you really continue your goal forgetting Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s presence here?”
“Look, Kħālājān, none of us can ever tell anyone about it anyway. Right?” Ħamīdah Sheikħ leered, “So let’s just get it on and let the pieces fall where they might.”
“I would still feel funny, you know. Doing it with my brother-in-law while my real brother in law Raħmān Sheikħ’s daughter, Ħamīdah Sheikħ, watched. How kinky can you get?” Åādilah Sheikħ tried not to blush.
“Just pretend I’m not here,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ told her.
“I’ve never even done it with…with…with another Musalmān Beauty watching…much less my niece,” Åādilah Sheikħ said, slowly sitting back down on the bed.
“Would you like for Durgesh and me to do it and let you watch us first?” Ħamīdah Sheikħ grinned evilly.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Åādilah Sheikħ said, blushing brightly. “This is all so confusing and that sounds so…so wicked.”
I could see that Ħamīdah Sheikħ was wresting all control from her Kħālājān.
She was slowly taking charge of the explosive situation.
“Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s Supreme Experienced Hindu lover, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! why don’t you take your robe off and come over here so that Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ can see how beautiful your big Uncut Hindu Penis is,” she smiled benevolently.
Butter wouldn’t melt in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth, I thought to myself, priding bright red as I slipped my robe off and let it fall to the floor.
Then, suddenly feeling like Lord Kr’shñ himself at an auction, I marched proudly over to the bed.
Stopping before the two Musalmān Beauties, I stood there letting their beautiful Musalmān eyes feast on my impressive Uncut Hindu Penis.
“See, Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ?” Ħamīdah Sheikħ giggled. “See how pretty it is?”
Åādilah Sheikħ didn’t speak.
She just stared down at my proudly standing Hindu monster.
“Feel it, Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ. Take it in your hand and feel how heavy it is,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ leered at her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ. “Wouldn’t you like to feel it inside your hot, little Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt?”
Åādilah Sheikħ didn’t move.
Smiling maliciously, Ħamīdah Sheikħ slowly reached over and took hold of her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ’s hand.
Lifting it, she brought it over to my big, erect Uncut Hindu Prick.
“Sit down between us, Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s Supreme Experienced Hindu lover, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!” she mewed. “Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ wants to make you even harder. Don’t you, Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ?”
Slowly, like a proud conqueror, I sat down between them.
Gasping for air, I felt Raħmān Sheikħ’s daughter, Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s tongue probing my mouth as my sister’s-in-law hand lay lifelessly against my Uncut Hindu Cock.
But even without any assistance from my sister-in-law, my Uncut Hindu Cock began to swell and harden all on its own.
Åādilah Sheikħ couldn’t believe this was happening.
She couldn’t believe what she was doing as she stared down at her illegal Hindu brother-in-law’s giant Uncut Hindu Penis slowly hardening right before her eyes.
Finally, she gave it a tentative squeeze and felt it immediately respond by surging and growing harder.
Growing braver, she wrapped her hand around my growing Hindu manhood and gently began to stroke it.
As she did, she felt my wicked proud Uncut Hindu Prick swelling harder and harder.
Watching it in awe, Åādilah Sheikħ was amazed to see it growing larger and larger, so fast.
It seemed like only seconds ago it had been soft and limp but now it stood before her, proud and hard, ready to do its gratifying deed.
Looking up from the jutting monstrosity, she saw Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s and my lips finally part.
She could hear our heavy breathing, huffing and puffing like we had just run a hundred yard dash as we stared into each other’s eyes like she wasn’t even there.
“Allah Allah, God, Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s Supreme Experienced Hindu lover, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! you’re making me all wet and sticky inside,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ panted, looking down at my bloated Uncut Hindu Cock. “And Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ made you all big and hard again. Didn’t you, Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ?”
Åādilah Sheikħ didn’t know what to say, looking away from her niece’s smart mocking leer.
Then she found her eyes sneaking down to her niece’s Ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s Ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy was indeed wet and oozing a little stream of juice down onto the bed.
This can’t be happening, she told herself, as she felt a tremor of excitement shoot through her own Ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy. She was having bizarre reaction to the situation.
She had come over to seduce her brother-in-law, but now, now she found herself strangely attracted to her niece.
She had never felt such an attraction toward another Musalmān Beauty before.
Sure, she found My bloated Uncut Hindu Prick exciting and knew that it would feel wonderful inside her, but now she had an almost uncontrollable urge to touch her niece’s dripping little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān gash.
Touch it and kiss it.
Kiss it and taste the juices flowing from it.
What was coming over her, she asked herself, as she stared down at the glistening folds of soft, pink, dew-covered flesh?
She had never felt this way toward any other Musalmān Beauty.
Dizzied by her newfound attraction to her niece, Åādilah Sheikħ suddenly became aware that her own juices had started to flow and now she was herself all wet and sticky down between her legs too.
“I don’t know if I can share Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s Supreme Experienced Hindu lover, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! with you,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ gurgled.
“Huh?” Åādilah Sheikħ mumbled, shaken from her reverie by Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s voice.
“I said, I don’t know if I want to share Durgesh‘s Uncut Hindu Cock with you,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ repeated reaching down and wrapping her hand around my big, fat Uncut Hindu Cock just above Åādilah Sheikħ’s hand.
“It is a handsome Uncut Hindu Cock,” Åādilah Sheikħ said, squeezing My Uncut Hindu Cock and watching a big drop of prefuck juice dribble out the tiny hole in the center of its big, bloated head.
Marveling at her niece’s audacity, she watched Ħamīdah Sheikħ dip the tip of her finger into the glistening drop of my Hindu jizm and spread the slippery sap over the big purple ball of hardened Hindu flesh.
“I’ve changed my mind, Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ suddenly blurted out, grabbing Åādilah Sheikħ by the hand and tugging her to the center of the bed. “I’m going to let Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s Supreme Experienced Hindu lover, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! fuck you first.”
Åādilah Sheikħ blushed deeply as she felt herself being forced down onto her back.
Then after a flurry of movement, she found herself with her head in her niece’s lap staring up at me standing at her feet.
Suddenly Ħamīdah Sheikħ reached down and unhooked her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ’s bra.
Spreading it apart, she took her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ’s big beautiful, conical Musalmān breasts in her hands, squeezing and fondling them as Åādilah Sheikħ stared down at me.
I was just standing there smiling down at her with my raging Hindu erection pointing up at the ceiling.
Why even the stunning Musalmān houseladies are having pride nowadays in having extra marital sexual relations with Durgesh, or if Durgesh is not available, with other Capable Hindus available to them.
Standing on the pocked, asphalt, circular driveway, before her broad multi story Saůūdī Årab mansion, waved a last time to her just eighteen, just adult, youngest sister, Navīdah Sheikħ Åbbās.
Navīdah Sheikħ Åbbās was in the back seat of the Mercedes that was a part of the daily car pool taking her to the Makkah Mukarramah University.
It was the latest University in Makkah Mukarramah.
They called it Multiversity instead.
Ved Nagar India was its marvellous Headquarter.
Who had even thought ever that such a University, Multiversity to be precise, would be established in Makkah Mukarramah.
Al Saud’s mankind never allowed any such activity in their regime.
Now, however, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD was the lifelong Chairperson of ‘Al Muslimāt Al Åālmīn’.
Yet, even the Al Muslimāt Al Makkah Mukarramah joined the organization proudly.
The infamous Muslimāt trio was utmost successful now everywhere.
Åādilah Sheikħ smiled.
Durgesh was extraordinary smart.
Still hesitant, but knowing what was about to happen, Åādilah Sheikħ unconsciously held her legs pressed tightly together.
“Do you want to do this?” I asked Åādilah Sheikħ, letting my hand drop to her thighs.
She didn’t say a word, but finally she nodded her head up and down almost imperceptibly.
She felt me applying outward pressure as I tried to spread her legs apart.
She resisted for a Moment, but then gave in.
I felt the Momentary resistance suddenly dissolve as I forced her long, shapely legs wider and wider apart.
Smiling, I could see that her readiness was already oozing out of the fleshy Musalmān gash.
This wasn’t the way that Åādilah Sheikħ had planned it, but it was just as good, maybe better, she thought as she watched me crawl onto the bed.
Legs wide apart, totally exposed and vulnerable, Åādilah Sheikħ watched on with a touch of apprehension as I crawled up between her legs.
Then suddenly, I was standing over her on my hands and knees, my inflamed Uncut Hindu Cock waving above her waiting Musalmān Beauty.
This was something she had dreamed of ever since she had met me, she thought, as she watched me ease my hips down and let my big Uncut Hindu Cock nestle down between the soft, fleshy lips of her sopping Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān slit.
Well, she hadn’t dreamed it would happen exactly this way, but this was even more exciting.
Moving my hips forward, I pushed my Uncut Hindu Cock at her probing for the opening to her secret place.
Missing it on the first try, I backed away and tried again, but still didn’t find the waiting gash of slippery flesh.
Then, as I drew back for the third try, I felt Åādilah Sheikħ’s soft, hot fingers take hold of my throbbing Uncut Hindu Lund and guide it down into the seething heat of her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
As I felt the hot wetness of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt envelop my Uncut Hindu Cockhead, I grunted and thrust the rest of my big, hard Uncut Hindu Cock into Åādilah Sheikħ’s steaming Musalmān socket.
“Allaaaaaaaaaaah, yā Allaaaaaaaaaaah! Ohhhh, myyyy Goooddd,” Åādilah Sheikħ moaned, as she felt my Uncut Hindu Penis slice down into the aching core of her slippery Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān slit. “Your Uncut Hindu Cock is so big, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!”
With my hands resting by Åādilah Sheikħ’s shoulders, I was staring directly into Raħmān Sheikħ’s daughter; Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s big, round tits.
Leaning forward just a bit, I was able to squeeze a big, bulging nipple.
Still squeezing on Raħmān Sheikħ’s daughter , Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s soft, succulent breast, I began to fuck Åādilah Sheikħ with long, confident Hindu strokes driving my Uncut Hindu Cock down into her hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt all the way to its hairy hilt every time.
Ħamīdah Sheikħ roughly squeezed her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ’s ripe little pears.
Delighting in the feel of the soft, squishy breast flesh in her hands, she boldly tweaked her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ’s puffy, fat nipples with her fingers.
Looking up at the wicked scene being played out above her, Åādilah Sheikħ reveled in the feel of my giant Uncut Hindu Cock sliding in and out of her slavering Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
As Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s Supreme Experienced Hindu lover, I deliberately fucked her; Åādilah Sheikħ felt her head begin to slowly sliding down between her niece’s hard, firm thighs.
As Ħamīdah Sheikħ slowly spread her thighs apart, she smiled down at her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ with a wicked leer on her red crimson quivering Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips.
As Åādilah Sheikħ’s head touched the bed, Ħamīdah Sheikħ raised her gorgeous extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks up until her furry little mound was hovering just above her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ’s mouth.
Reaching up, Åādilah Sheikħ guided the glistening wetness of niece’s lovely pink furrow down to her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
Arching her neck, she hungrily attacked the soft, slippery gash with her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and tongue.
“OH, Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ, that feels so good,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ mumbled, reveling in the feel of her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ’s rough tongue flicking back and forth across her tingling Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān clitoris.
Reveling in the wicked new novelty, Åādilah Sheikħ moved away from her niece’s bulging Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān clitoris and sucked as much of her niece’s soft, fleshy young adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot lips into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth as she could.
Sucking and nibbling on the succulent, bloated lips, she ran her tongue up and down the dripping furrow of Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt searching for the opening to her niece’s hidden secrecy.
Finally she felt her tongue ease down into the hot, wet hole.
Forcing her tongue up into the hot wetness of Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s ripe little Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān slit, she tongue-fucked her niece causing her to cry out with pleasure once again.
Tonguing her niece, Åādilah Sheikħ moved her hands up to Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s big, pendant breasts.
Taking the other one in both of her hands, she began to squeeze and mash it roughly, letting her fingers twist and twirl the hard rubbery nipple.
With her hands busy with Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s breast and her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth busily working on the girl’s Ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, Åādilah Sheikħ realized she was staring up at her niece’s tight little anus.
Dragging her juice-drenched tongue out of her niece’s tight little Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, she found the hard, bulging roundness of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān clitoris with her tongue.
As she teased Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān clitoris, Åādilah Sheikħ watched the tense little prune clench and tighten every time she flicked her tongue across Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān clitoris.
“Allah, yā Allah! My God, Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ groaned, “I’m going to come in your mouth if you keep that up.”
While Åādilah Sheikħ eagerly lapped at Raħmān Sheikħ’s daughter, Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s pouting clit, I shifted my ass into a higher gear drilling Åādilah Sheikħ’s hungry Ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy faster and faster.
Being battered by my massive Uncut Hindu Cock, Åādilah Sheikħ drove Ħamīdah Sheikħ toward a climax with her tongue.
But even as she urged her niece toward the finish line, Åādilah Sheikħ felt the tingling onset of her own orgasm.
Then, as she slipped closer and closer to the dark, pleasure-filled abyss, she felt my giant Uncut Hindu Cock balloon out.
Åādilah Sheikħ could feel me thrusting deeper and deeper into her pulpy Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt as she frantically squeezed and mashed her niece’s big, drooping mammaries.
Her tongue viciously slashed back and forth across Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān clitoris, trying to bring her niece to the point of no return.
Suddenly, Åādilah Sheikħ heard Ħamīdah Sheikħ gasp, as her niece shoved her Ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy down on Åādilah Sheikħ’s hungry mouth.
Åādilah Sheikħ listened to her niece jabbering mindless gibberish as the girl’s gushing Ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy bounced and flitted all over her face, coating it with the juices flowing from her climaxing Ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Then, as if triggered by Raħmān Sheikħ’s daughter, Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s noisy outburst, My big Uncut Hindu Cock bulged out and began to spew its hot Hindu sap deepest into Åādilah Sheikħ’s gulping Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Åādilah Sheikħ felt like Old Faithful had erupted inside her as my Uncut Hindu Penis filled her Ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy with my hot Hindu cream.
Then, deepest inside of her own Ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, she felt the sparks erupt into a full-blown conflagration of ashvinātam pleasure.
Åādilah Sheikħ gloated in the pure animalistic satisfaction that was coursing through her extremely beautiful young adult excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body as she thrust herself back at me.
All three bodies met and were welded together by the searing heat pouring from where they touched.
The wicked yet sweet melodious sounds of our ashvinātam infusion echoed off the walls of the bedroom as our mouths spewed out lewd yet sweet ashvinātam obscenities.
The cacophony of sounds grew fainter and fainter as we writhed through the pleasurable anguish until one by one, we collapsed.
We all lay motionless for several minutes as we caught our breath.
“Wasn’t it great?” Ħamīdah Sheikħ finally asked her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ as she lifted her head and rested it on her hand. “Doesn’t Durgesh have a wonderful Uncut Hindu Cock?”
“Yes, Durgesh does,” Åādilah Sheikħ smiled back at her as My rapidly shrinking Uncut Hindu Penis was Slithering out of her cum-drenched Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
“If you two don’t wear it out,” I grunted, backing away from Åādilah Sheikħ.
Then as my Uncut Hindu Cock slipped out of Åādilah Sheikħ, a gush of cum came pouring out after it.
“I don’t think you can wear an Uncut Hindu Cock out,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ giggled. “Do you, Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ?”
“I don’t think so. Especially one as big as this one,” Åādilah Sheikħ mewed, scooting down toward the object of our conversation.
“It looks good enough to eat. Don’t you think, Ħamīdah Sheikħ?”
“Yes, I do,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ said, slowly moving down by her Kħālājān Åādilah Sheikħ. “It’s fun to tease it and make it come in your mouth, too.”
“I’m sure it is,” Åādilah Sheikħ grinned, flicking her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān tongue out and running it down My cum-coated Uncut Hindu Cock.
“Would you like Durgesh to cum in your mouth?”
“If Durgesh has any left,” Åādilah Sheikħ smiled, kissing My bloated, purple Uncut Hindu Cockhead, “after that last explosion.”
“Oh, I can always make more,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ gurgled. “Can’t you, Durgesh?”
“Sure,” I smiled, “why not? Just for the two of you. But take it easy on me for a little bit. My Uncut Hindu Lund is still a little touchy.”
The Musalmān Beauties began exploring my Uncut Hindu Prick with soft, gentle touches.
Basking in the Musalmān Beauties’s attention, I smiled to myself, turning from one side to the other to admire the two fleshy Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunts.
Soon, I felt my Uncut Hindu Cock begin to stir as the Musalmān Beauties lovingly coaxed life back into it.
Not content to remain idle, I reached over to Ħamīdah Sheikħ and gently rolled her over onto her side with her stomach facing me.
Taking one long, lovely leg, I lifted it enough to slide my waist down between her legs.
Now her beautiful little Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt was brushing up against my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Easing my Uncut Hindu Lund, I began to worry and tease her clit.
Reveling in the feel of their sucking Musalmān mouths and tickling tongues, I could feel them licking and lapping on my Uncut Hindu Cock from my balls to its big throbbing head.
As I teased Ħamīdah Sheikħ’s spit-polished Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān clitoris, I could feel her excitement growing as my Uncut Hindu Penis ripened and grew under their loving Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān care.
Unbelievably, I was beginning to distinguish the subtle differences of each Musalmān Beauty’s mouth as they lapped and sucked on my Uncut Hindu Cock.
Just as I was consuming her lovely Ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, Raħmān Sheikħ’s daughter, Ħamīdah Sheikħ, was sucking on me, sliding her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth up and down my big, thick Uncut Hindu Cock.
Wishing that I could keep it up and bring her to another orgasm, I didn’t want Åādilah Sheikħ to feel left out either.
Staring down at the fleshy Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān slit of Åādilah Sheikħ, I saw that my Hindu semen was still oozing out of the meaty Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān gash.
I felt Åādilah Sheikħ wrest control of my swollen Uncut Hindu Penis away from Ħamīdah Sheikħ.
Now Åādilah attacked my Uncut Hindu Cock with a vengeance.
Åādilah Sheikħ sucked my Uncut Hindu Cock into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
Gnawing and sucking on the column of stiff, hard Uncut Hindu Cock, she felt herself being whisked along toward the inevitable.
Now both Musalmān Beauties were hunching themselves up against me.
I could feel the Musalmān Beauties change on my Uncut Hindu Cock every time.
The Musalmān Beauties’s mouths grew more and more insistent on my fully-hardened Uncut Hindu Cock.
Strangely, I found myself rapidly conceding to the intermittent sucking pressure on my Uncut Hindu Cock.
I had come only minutes before, but the wickedness of what they were doing was bringing my Hindu cum to a boil.
Åādilah Sheikħ couldn’t believe it.
It was coming on her so fast.
Then, abruptly she was there.
As the ball of pure pleasure exploded inside her hot, throbbing Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, she slapped her legs together, as she roughly ground her pubis.
She felt like someone had shoved an electric wire up her Ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy as the jolts of pure pleasure shot up her spine and erupted in her brain.
She reveled in the exquisite, but short-lived joy that was over within seconds.
Great Durgesh, she thought.
I took care of them, and I was still hard and ready.
They’ve been so carried away by their own pleasure, they’ve forgotten all about me.
Seeking to remedy that situation, Åādilah Sheikħ quickly leaned over and sucked me into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
Sucking as hard as she could, she scraped her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān tongue around the giant Uncut Hindu Cockhead again and again until she felt my Uncut Hindu Cock bulging out, threatening to explode any second.
Sensing that I wouldn’t last much longer, Åādilah Sheikħ pushed her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth down on me as hard as she could, forcing my big Uncut Hindu Cockhead up against the opening of her throat and then popping up into her throat.
At last, a growl escaped My mouth as she felt a torrent of creamy Hindu cum rip up out of my Uncut Hindu Cock and gush out into her throat.
Fighting against the urge to breathe, she thought I would never stop shooting off.
Finally, with one final quiver, my Uncut Hindu Cock stopped spitting out its toxic Hindu load and she quickly jerked her extremely beautiful head up.
Gasping for breath, she let my shrinking Uncut Hindu Cock pop out of her throat and mouth.
She quickly drew in several deep breaths of wonderful air into her air-starved lungs.
This need satisfied, she gently nibbled and toyed with my Uncut Hindu Cockhead, lovingly sucking every last drop of my Hindu cum out of it before she stopped.
“You Musalmān Beauties are going to kill me,” I finally gasped, when I could talk again. “I need to take a nap.”
“I think Durgesh deserves a break after that,” Åādilah Sheikħ grinned. “Don’t you?”
“I think so,” Ħamīdah Sheikħ smiled too. “I could use one, too.”
Both Musalmān Beauties snuggled up against me and within Moments all of us were asleep.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
After slowly recovering from this magnificent lovemaking, I slowly put Arzumand Jahāngīr down kissing her, loving her.
“I never purchase any land in Ved Nagar. HVSI did it.” I smiled.
Our bodies were still wet and our hearts were racing.
Arzumand Jahāngīr reached up to stroke my face as I looked down at her.
“Aren’t you the lifelong Chairman of HVSI?”
“Of course, I am.” I smiled cunningly.
She knew if we ever had to end our relationship, she’d never be able to share another moment so special like this one with anyone else.
“Then why don’t you acknowledge your defeat?”
“Arzumand Jahāngīr, only because you are the top student of London School of Business, you aren’t capable enough to understand my Business Strategies.”
“Hasn’t HVSI lost Rs. One hundred crore more for the land it purchased today in auction?”
“According to its present value, isn’t it?”
“You can’t imagine its future value HVSI is planning to give it.”
“After that, it’d pay HVSI so many hundred crores more we couldn’t have gotten if that particular land was not ours.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are pleasuring yourself thinking you’ve made me pay Rs. One hundred crore more. I’m pleasuring myself thinking I’ve secured so many hundred crores more for HVSI. Paying only one hundred crore more for them is too shrewd for the rest of the Business community to understand.” I smiled triumphantly.
Arzumand Jahāngīr smiled ironically.
“You are trying to save your face, Durgesh darling, the Supreme Business Tycoon. I sympathize with you.”
“That’s keeping you all the Business Community too satisfied and happy to watch me now for my new Business Games I’m playing behind it.”*
Business Today Karachi had published that Arzumand Jahāngīr had successfully defeated me.
Yet, the other Business Dailies doubted my ostensible defeat.
‘Durgesh is too shrewd a businessman to be defeated so easily. There must be some hidden business strategy they are still unable to understand.’
“My child, you’ve successfully broken the pride of Durgesh the so called Supreme Business Tycoon, the multi zillionaire.”
Arzumand Jahāngīr was not so sure now.
“Abbū, thank you very much. But now I myself doubt my so-called victory on Durgesh. It was too easy to be genuine, I think now.”
Salīm Jahangīr laughed.
“Durgesh is dangerous.”
“Not to his women, you stupid.” Salīm Jahangīr laughed, “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know very well how to protect my daughter from the ever shrewdest businessman Durgesh.” He winked at his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān wife.*
My master plan overall had to be carried out quietly.
The minute I tried to blueprint my plans, it might defeat its own purpose.
Prices of the properties I hoped to acquire might go up beyond all reasons.
There were so many anti humanity forces that didn’t want HVSI win the battle.
All of them had their own selfish stakes.
The interests of HVSI were always against them.
It wasn’t anything that could be explained publicly.
It was detrimental to the business.
I intended to address the stockholders’ meeting.
There was entire Ārsh Sadan to support me.
Yet, what about the small stockholders?
The ones who had put some thousands of Rupees here, some thousands of Rupees there?
Weren’t they the stockholders that concededly wanted profit and action?
They didn’t know how to do business successfully.
Neither, they wanted to know it ever.
The only thing they wanted foolishly was profit and action.
I folded the newspaper, switched out lights.
I was heading for the door, when the phone rang.
I answered it.
There was some woman on the other side.
Her voice was fascinating.
Yet there was something in it that carried its own warning.
It was too syrupy smooth.
I felt I’d certainly heard it before.
“The same.” I smiled, “May I ask who is it honoring me now?”
“Come and have the full honor.” She smiled seductively, “I must see you. I have some secret information that will be of the greatest value to you.”
“I’m waiting here. Please come to let me give you proper response.” I smiled artfully.
“Shaguftah Rashīd for you.”
“I don’t think I place you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Then honor me to let me know you personally.”
The voice of Shaguftah Rashīd grew more seductive.
“That’s why I want to meet you privately, alone, somewhere where no one will know.”
“He is capable.”
“What do you mean?”
“He is criminal minded and I suspect he is a criminal himself.”
“Want to cuckold him?”
“Why not?” Shaguftah Rashīd beamed, “It would serve the bastard right.”
“Come on. I already have a great erection for you.”
“I don’t think it would be safe. Let’s see each other at Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club.”
“Done. See you my darling.”*
Shaguftah Rashīd smiled.
“Thank you. Go there. Register there for masked fucking.”
“That’s very good.” I beamed, “How old are you, Shaguftah Rashīd?”
Shaguftah Rashīd smirked.
“Can’t wait even until you see me yourself?”
“Nonsense! Sālī, you’ve already hardened me enough to fuck you forever.”
“I’m honored. Thank you very much for behaving with me so nice.”
“It’s my pleasure, my dear.”
“I thought you’d be cautious enough to meet me.”
Shaguftah Rashīd laughed.
“I know I do live in a glass house always with my Musalmān Beauties. Their ever jealous Musalmān husbands and other over zealous Musalmān brethren are always after us. Poor stupids don’t know they risk their ever certain cuckolding for coming between their Musalmān houseladies and me.”
Muslim, hai yeh sazā tujhé, mujhko pasand hai.”
I laughed too.
“I appreciate the spirit, my darling.”
“I can’t talk with you now any longer without making my Musalmān husband suspicious. And dangerous consequently. I don’t think it would be wise. I want to see you. I want you to fuck me to degrade my criminal minded Musalmān husband. I’m married to him only because we were Muslims. There was no question of him being a noble man too.”
“We Musalmān Beauties are grateful to you, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! Deeply indebted for the social service you are providing in this way to us Musalmān Beauties.”
‘N’ yé divah pr’thivyā antamāpurn māyābhirdhandām paryabhūvan,
Yujam vajram vr’shbhashchakr indro nirjyotishā tamso gā aduxat.’
‘The persons that didn’t reach the end of celestial bodies and earth, neither chagrined by prudences the one that gives wealth all over. Vr’shabh did vajr to ‘yuj’. The controller of organs continuously milked the cows of darkness, with light.’
Shaguftah Rashīd smiled.
“We appreciate the concern, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! But not only have our appreciation we to offer to our Muħsin-e-Åāzam, Muħsin-e-Muslimāt. I have information too you should have. It is the information that you must have to protect the stockholders, protect us Musalmān Beauties, protect yourself, and save HVSI for the welfare of entire humankind. Imām Muħammad Ħasan hasn’t only succeeded in penetrating our safest fort of HVSI through some of us foolish Musalmān Beauties, he has even more proxies than you estimate. You’ve succeeded in cuckolding him, but he has accepted his cuckolding as his inevitable fate. It has made Imām Muħammad Ħasan even ever more perilous than you think.”
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan is a very dangerous antagonist now to us Musalmān Beauties as well as to you Hindus too. He is against his own daughter, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s movements ‘Cuckold your Musalmān husband’, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club etcetera. He is fighting desperately to control HVSI too, at least as much as he can.”
“You have to start a counter campaign.”
“Chahat uđāvani phūnki pahāđū?”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t follow you.”
“He wants to blow away mountain, Himalayas rather, by―”
“Aren’t you underestimating him too much?”
“I don’t think so.” I contradicted Shaguftah Rashīd, “Rather I think you are making a mountain out of a molehill.”
“I appreciate your self confidence yet―”
“Let’s meet. There are certain matters I can’t discuss over the mobile.”
“I can understand. I’m not dumb enough not to appreciate your position.”
“That’s very noble of you. But there are also certain matters that are not apt to be discussed in the media. The stockholders have to have faith in someone, after all. If they don’t understand it they might wind up in financial gutter even. Their holdings have multiplied so many times in value during the past years in my management. I’ve every reason to believe they’ll continue to climb, and―”
“Allah, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!” the melodious female voice exclaimed, “Don’t try to sell me. I’m not imprudent enough not to understand that. Imām Muħammad Ħasan is a crook. He is trying to get at least somewhat control in HVSI. He and his friends are after manipulation of the assets of HVSI. I wouldn’t trust him two feet away for two seconds even. I want you to have the information that I have.”
“I don’t think you do perfectly. If you knew as much as I do, you’d realized that I’m in danger already just talking to you.”
“Allah, don’t act to be so innocent enough that you don’t understand these things perfectly. If you didn’t you weren’t the Supreme Business Tycoon, the multi zillionaire.” Shaguftah Rashīd said angrily, “I’m in danger of getting killed.”
Shaguftah Rashīd slammed up the telephone at her end.*
I sat on my executive chair for some minutes I’ve put the receiver on the cradle.
Shaguftah Rashīd was not her real name, I was sure now.
She was prudent enough not to use it.
Yet, there had been something in her voice, attitude and other things that carried genuineness.
It carried conviction.
I knew the necessity for caution, however.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan could really go to any extent.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan did it publicly proudly even.
Yet I wasn’t sure he never felt his self respect hurt from what he was forced to do by his own Musalmān houseladies, even by his own real daughters too.
We urinated in his mouth.
We used it as our toilet too.
Nafīsah Salmān enjoyed it very much.
But even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was not very much against it.
Half a dozen attempts were made to frame me during last two weeks.
I anticipated it.
In every attempt the major players were caught red handed and now they were behind the bars.
I was sixty three already.
I knew very well how they used to play these dirty games.
My infinite Bhogchakr was not letting them succeed even a bit.
They hadn’t any Bhogchakr left to them at all.
Their constant Shaktixaý they were unable to stop as they didn’t even believe in the Shaktipāt Shaktixaý principle.
The conspirators never knew I’d already reported to the higher police authorities and was acting under their constant surveillance.*
My infinite Bhogchakr had provided me infinite intelligence too.
It had already made the higher authorities favorable to me.
Due to my every day ten times multiplying infinite Bhogchakr they couldn’t go against me ever.
They didn’t know anything about it.
Even if they were told they believed it was a superstition of the foolish Hindus.
So they couldn’t have an antithesis against it.
I was never afraid of any unpleasant newspaper notoriety even.
Ved, Divý Itihās, the vast history of the ever shrewdest Bachhalyās, Hindu history, and Mahā Bhārat etcetera had already made me shrewd enough to change every unpleasant newspaper notoriety even, in my favor with not more tremendous efforts.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā was always with me if I was never against humanity, and ever active in doing favors to it instead.
Let the atheists laugh at it imagining it my superstition.
Why should I worry when I never suffered in having faith in it?
I always believed in results.
Never in gossips and the foolish blind superstitions of the atheists.
I laughed at them.
In my opinion only atheists could be so blind, impractical and imprudent.
None of any practical persons could be ever so unwise.
I waited for fifteen minutes.
Then I again switched out the lights, saw that the night latch was on the door, and went down in the elevator.*
A small, leather backed memorandum book was in his left hand.
A pencil was behind his right ear.
Frowning at the interruption, Muħammad Ůsmān looked up.
It took him an effort to manage a smile as he saw Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“Hello, Kħātūn-e-Jannatrza,” Muħammad Ůsmān tried to beam at her, “Your precious sex sessions with the Supreme Business Tycoon, the Multi Zillionaire, Durgesh, have started to produce their miraculous results to you I think. I couldn’t hear you drive up.”
“Where’s Ruqayyah Bājī?” she asked him curtly.
“Upstairs my dear.” Muħammad Ůsmān smiled at her over doing his welcome contemptuously, “Where else?”
“No. She is lying there reading.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah avoided the discussion.
“I want to see you.”
“You are most welcome my lady.”
“Don’t exaggerate it.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said tartly, “you look ridiculous.”
She paused in the doorway, turned and said,
“When you are figuring the race horses, Muħammad Ůsmān, don’t think you have to fall all over yourself putting out of sight just because I happen to walk in unannounced.”
Muħammad Ůsmān flushed.
They make them smarter than Musalmīn too.
They are never interested in sex with them only.
They make them educated, sophisticated and financially independent too.
They shamelessly say:
‘Once with Durgesh,
All the rest is trash.’
Durgesh has made them multimillionaires at least.
The Musalmīn are left so much far behind now.
Muħammad Ůsmān tried to save his face laughing and saying somewhat sheepishly, guiltily, awkwardly, shamefacedly,
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah climbed the stairs to where her elder sister lay in bed leisurely.
She punished him suitably.
“You are a slave for Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah from now on, Muħammad Ůsmān. We promise it to keep to us if you cooperate with us. If you don’t, the movie of what happened here today will be released in the global theaters of Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, ‘Cuckold your Musalmān husband’, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club and Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. It’s up to you now what your future would be. As far as the future of Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah is concerned she is safe now in my nude Hindu lap forever.”
A rose-shaded reading lamp was fastened to the head of the bed.
It was ‘Årab Maha Bhārat’.
The room was filled with a soft, rosy glow.
“I thought you wouldn’t come now.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was grave.
“I can’t afford not to come. I was detained actually. How’s everything today?”
“It maybe his act only.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah warned her, “Muħammad Ůsmān is not so dumb as he wants the others to believe. Never forget he was the person who wanted to murder you for your money.”
“How can I? The bastard has to payback for it for the rest of his life.”
“You were always right, Fātimah, that the bastard was after my money. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you first.”
“But thanks Allah that your subconscious believed me, otherwise you wouldn’t have jumped out from the car successfully as soon as you realized there was something wrong in your Musalmān husband’s attitude.”
“Your warning saved me, Fātimah.”
“You are right.”
“What’s the book?”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled.
“How many times you’d read it?”
“Durgesh is the only writer I love to read now again and again.”
“Bājī, you hated his writing once.”
“Yes, what a fool I was. I thought he writes against us.”
“And now what?”
“You know.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled.
“Now Durgesh is the only writer I love to read ever. But he isn’t an abundant writer, Fātimah. He must write more. He is the only writer that understands our problems, our society, our religion and our needs as accurate as even we don’t do.”
“You are right.”
“He must write more.”
“He says he tries his best but he has other things to do as well.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled.
“My blind loyalty to him is gone forever, Fātimah. Don’t worry. I want to punish him forever now. That’s all. Otherwise I’d have turned him to the police.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed.
“Nonsense. She wouldn’t be ever. She says only Saiyadah Fātimah PhD Bājī deserves the honor.”
Kħadījah Muħammad was startled.
“Why not?” Saiyadah Fātimah PhD asked curtly.
“Bājī, you don’t mean it seriously, do you?” Kħadījah Muħammad laughed, “You are joking. Aren’t you?”
“Absolutely not. I’m dead serious.” Saiyadah Fātimah PhD declared firmly.
Kħadījah Muħammad hesitated.
“Why not you?”
“Because I lack to qualify.”
“What do you mean? We both are PhD.”
“But I never outexcelled you in politics, did I ever?”*
Abruptly the King’s voice was gone.
Through the perforated holes of the loudspeaker box came a faint tearing sound.
It was as if some canvas being ripped.
Then there was a tinny whine, and then the ear splitting falsetto crackle of static, and then dead silence.
Sheikħah Al Ibādat Åbdul Åzīz had reached forward.
She placed a hand on the microphone box as if to steady it.
Then quietly she spoke into the box.
“Your Majesty― hello, your Royal Majesty, we cannot hear you. We have lost you. Try again. Please try again.”
Sheikħah Al Ibādat Åbdul Åzīz remained immobilized.
Her cocked head was listening for a response.
But there was no sound.
Her hand shook on the microphone box slightly.
“Muåīn, this is Al Ibādat here. Can you hear me?”
The loudspeaker stood mute.
Sheikħah Al Ibādat Åbdul Åzīz stared at it a moment.
Then she looked about the room at the others:
“I think we’ve been disconnected. We’ll have to get him back.”
General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz was already on her feet.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s movements ‘Cuckold Your Musalmān husband’, ‘Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh’, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club etcetera had forced the King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz to surrender to the popular demands of the globe wide followers of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
The appointment of General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz was the result of it.
Not only it, there were so many drastic changes also in Saůūdī Årab administrations.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was succeeding miraculously.
She was already on the road to establish democracy not only in Saůūdī Årab but in the entire Islamic countries as well.
“Let me get hold of the Signal Corps.” She was saying, “This happens from time to time with the mechanical unscrambler. I’ll have them track the trouble down. We’ll be hooked up again in a few minutes.”
She wasn’t as sure as General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz was.
She has ultimately succeeded in destroying the age old autonomy of Al Sauds.
They say Durgesh was not behind it.
It was done by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, her movements ‘Cuckold Your Musalmān husband’, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh’, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, and her millions of the followers themselves.
It was only the political drama to immobilize the supporters of Al Sauds.
King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz has voluntary retired.
He has received more than he could have in all his lifetime.
Why then he had wanted to face Islamic terrorists?
He wasn’t fool enough.*
Her Abbū had lost his wife ab initio when his nikāħ was in execution.
She demanded Durgesh and Al Muħammad Al Ikħlās provided her.
Al Furqān Al Wahāb had threatened to disclose his secrets otherwise.
Al Muħammad Al Ikħlās couldn’t afford it.
It was a miracle he had succeeded in convincing Al Furqān Al Wahāb to sleep with him too as I couldn’t be available to her all the time.
She was shrewd enough to understand the trend when Al Saåūds started to lose.
Gradually the things were turning beyond their control.
She was prudent enough to understand sooner or later the Al Saåūds had to go.
She joined Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan secretly when she was invited.
Even King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz didn’t know it.
General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz called the department of Army.
She reported the communication failure.
Barking her displeasure, General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz demanded that the line to her Commander in Chief be restored.
General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz was still on telephone.*
She found the green silent butler, and began to move about the Cabinet table.
The Cabinet table was also a new development.
Here and there, around the table, the participants in the conference call had shifted positions on their chairs to discuss the King’s opinion on what had happened so far at the Islamic Countries Conference and what must be done about it.
Was it true Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Svarūpé avasthānam, her ultimate synchronization with her original body in absolute space, has taken place?
She couldn’t decide.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar admitted that she hated to make concessions on the important Minorities Rehabilitation Program.
It was being debated by the Labor and Public Welfare Committee.
Yet, it might be necessary still.
As soon as the connection was made again with Islamic Countries Conference, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar would ask the King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz how much he concede to the opposition floor leader, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, in return for Dr. Saåīdah Qamar’s full support of Joint Senate.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī was saying that any weakness that the Saůūdī Årab Government displayed in Islamic Countries Conference, would immediately aggravate Pseudo Musalmīn protest groups in Saůūdī Årab.
Nafīsah Salmān wouldn’t accept this.
She tried to reduce Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī to the role of uninformed outsider.
The clergyman was once her husband, actually still now legally, as there wasn’t any divorce between them legally.
“Of course,” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar pushed herself somewhat backward and unzipped me shamelessly, rather boldly.
She brought out my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis and kissed it passionately.
I closed my eyes in heavenly pleasure,
“Thank you, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar.”
“Nonsense, it’s my pleasure.” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar admonished me.
“You are thirty only, my darling.”
“So what? You are thirty two yourself. We make a perfect Ashvinātam Couple, the trend of the age now.”
“Thank you. However you are mistaken. I’m sixty two.”
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar laughed.
“Yes, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan warned me.”
“Why do I do what?” I asked somewhat curtly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was already influencing her.
It was not good.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said that to you?”
“I never rejected her claim to be so.”
“You are not happy with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?”
“And Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is an impediment in it?”
“She is deliberately trying to keep away them, obstinate to replace them with twenty eights and thirties.”
“Allah Allah! Angry young man, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan loves you very much, and so do I.”
“So do me too. Yet I abominate the way Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is trying to compel me to fuck twenty eights and thirties only.”
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar threw her head back and laughed.
She was playing with my Uncut Hindu Penis now delightfully.
“Sālī, Badmåsh, who are you with, actually, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan or me?” I smiled controlling myself now.
What was the use, after all?
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was incurable.
She reviled her Ammī Nafīsah Salmān.
She was sucking it now hungrily.
“I don’t think you miss your husband very much. I’m replacing him without any much effort on my side.”
“Should I really miss the bastard?”
I winked at her.
“Hey, don’t try to tease me. You know very well what I mean. I thought it would never come that he would leave us ever.”
I wasn’t taken aback.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar smiled.
I didn’t say anything.
I kept smiling only.
“We were fed up of him. He was too religious to be a normal husband. Musalmīn are stupid enough―”
I raised my right hand.
“I know how stupid the Musalmīn are. You the four are given a nice settlement.”
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar smiled.
“Well, let’s get on with it. Make it official, Durgesh darling.”
I was unsettled somewhat.
I pulled myself together.
Then I drew the document across the desk closer to me.
I took a moment to compose myself.
“Would you like me to read the deed of settlement to you, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar? It’s a short testament. You should have heard it fully before you signed it. I told you to do so.”
“That was not our goal. We wanted to get rid of him. The settlement was secondary.”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah took out her mobile.
Now Durgesh is needed.
Now Durgesh is needed.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is One Man Woman.
She had gone to the extent to seduce Durgesh herself.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled.
Durgesh was the man who was never accepted as any woman’s stepson, stepbrother or stepfather.
No woman was crazy enough to accept such a platonic relationship with Durgesh ever.
Yet, it was the cold and hard fact that Durgesh never succeeded in it.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled once more ironically.
But it was proved ultimately that even they were not faithful to their ardent Musalmān husbands.
Perhaps Durgesh’s own Ammī Ħuzūr was the only woman.
She was Durgesh’s real Ammī.
“Bājī,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah complained, “the great Kħadījah Muħammad can never be a history only, for Durgesh, ever. You are the woman Durgesh loved to marry with. Saiyadah Fātimah PhD Bājī is his wife only because Durgesh’s Pitr’shrī wanted it.”
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
“I have complaint against Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself.”
Kħadījah Muħammad laughed.
“Nonsense, Bājī. don’t tell me you also believe it.”*
It felt strange going back to the beginning after everything that’s happened since.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was such a different person now than Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was back then.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was such a goody-goody!
She remembered really thinking that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah loved Al Fātimah Al Zohrah.
I told her so!
I was Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s first real boyfriend.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was 18 years old, a senior in University, but Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was ready to believe anything.
I looked deep into Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s eyes and told Al Fātimah Al Zohrah that I would never leave her.
She sighed wistfully and thought Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was in Heaven.
Little did she know that he just wanted to cop a feel; not that it bugged her or anything, but when things looked like they were going to get purely physical, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah wanted to see how far Ålī ibn Abī Tālib would go for her first?
To be honest, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was not sure if Al Fātimah Al Zohrah would have let him or not.
However Ålī ibn Abī Tālib wouldn’t have been Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s first.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’d let one of the neighboring Hindus, me, up at the cottage the previous summer use and abuse her for a few weeks.
But Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was still a real prick-tease when Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was with me.
Now that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah thinks of it, though, she probably would have at least given me a hand-job if I had only asked for it.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was 5’8″, 120 lbs., and although Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was already 18 years old she know for a fact that she looked quite young for Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s age.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah also knew that she’d certainly turned some heads.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was a petite little hottie.
Most Hindus would do Al Fātimah Al Zohrah without a second thought.
They liked Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s face; high cheekbones, blue eyes, and blonde hair tied back in a bouncy ponytail.
And Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s friend Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ said that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had what she called ” Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān blowjob lips”—nice full ones, made extra sensuous by the glistening cherry-red lipstick Al Fātimah Al Zohrah often wore.
In University one would have thought of Al Fātimah Al Zohrah as the “all-Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girl”.
No one—no one—would have thought that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah would become the University Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Sex goddess.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah used to wear long—long—skirts.
Big, baggy blouses and sometimes—when Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was feeling particularly studious—thick horned-rimmed glasses.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was pretty back then, don’t get her wrong.
This isn’t some “She’s So Fine” ugly-duckling-becomes-a-swan story.
No, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was hot even with all that extra clothing on.
But things certainly got a bit more interesting when Al Fātimah Al Zohrah decided to show Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s self off a bit.
The week after Ålī ibn Abī Tālib broke up with Al Fātimah Al Zohrah, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was miserable.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had never been dumped before.
It happened on a Monday morning and all through the week Al Fātimah Al Zohrah just felt depressed.
By Friday the depression had begun to fade and Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was just feeling angry.
Who the hell did he think Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was?
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah could have given the snotty little bastard so much, but because Al Fātimah Al Zohrah wouldn’t shove his cut Musalmān nūnī in Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s mouth the moment he asked for it, he decided Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was no good?
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah decided that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah would make a real effort to show him exactly what he had given up.
The Friday after he had broken up with Al Fātimah Al Zohrah she stayed late at University, working in the library on a paper.
Outside, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah could hear the debate team doing squats, but inside the University was almost completely deserted.
By 5:00, when the library finally kicked her out, the halls were dark and the field outside was quiet.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah went to Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s locker, on the second floor, across from the boys’ locker room.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah could still hear the shower running and one or two voices coming from within, so she knew that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was not the last one in the University.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah opened Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s locker and slowly began putting her books away.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s mind was still racing and Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was still fuming at the way Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had been treated earlier in the week.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was thinking about the way in which Al Fātimah Al Zohrah would really show Ålī ibn Abī Tālib how big a mistake he had made, when fate provided Al Fātimah Al Zohrah with a perfect chance.
All of the sudden Al Fātimah Al Zohrah heard a high-pitched laugh from within the locker room.
The door slammed open and Al Fātimah Al Zohrah heard a loud “thwack!” split the air.
Clutching a loose towel up against his groin area, Durgesh crashed into the hallway, the tip of another wet, rolled-up towel cracking like a whip behind me.
I was a nice guy.
The University had invited me to deliver some lectures on perfect scientific life today.
I had been Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s lab instructor in Chemistry class the previous semester.
Chemistry was not my subject even in graduation.
I was a Pure Mathematics-Applied Mathematics-Physics student even in my graduation.
Yet, I was requested to instruct them in Chemistry too with the help of their lady Chemistry Professor.
There was a rumor that their lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, had her clandestine sexual relations with me, to the extent that their lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, had even cuckolded her otherwise very respected husband, Professor Åbdul Raħmān Hāshmī.
“So what? He can’t fuck our lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, too, as he fucks my Ammī?” Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ chuckled.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was startled.
She couldn’t imagine a girl talking of her own real Ammī in such a sexy manner.
“Watch your language, Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ.” At length, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah said ultimately.
Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ giggled.
“What’s wrong with my language?”
“Try to say anything about your Ammī in somewhat more descent words.”
“Sālī, every woman fucks a man.” Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ laughed, “That’s how we come into this world. My Ammī fucked my Abbū and gave birth to me. Similarly your Ammī fucked your Abbū and gave birth to you.”
“And our lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, fucked Durgesh and gave birth to Shubhésh?”
“Tell me another reason why she named her son Shubhésh? Isn’t Shubhésh a Hindu name?”
“You want to say Shubhésh is our lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s son from Durgesh?”
“Everyone knows it, you idiot.”*
The raspy Hindu male voice on the other end told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
“I’m coming for you…”
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hung up the phone.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was getting used to the prank calls by this time since they had been happening for at least a month or longer.
Nothing ever came of it.
Some nights Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t even get the calls.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, wasn’t concerned either.
He just figured it was Hindu teens making prank calls.
Unfortunately neither of them knew at the time how wrong they were.
Another month had passed another month of more prank calls, only they were getting worse.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was starting to get frightened.
When Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah about his upcoming business trip Kħadījah Al Tāhirah begged him to either take her with him or not to go at all.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah. “You are going to be fine.”
“But the calls.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah stammered.
“It’s just a bunch of kids trying to scare you. Nothing more. Now will you be grown up about this? Allah, yā Allah! My God, woman, you are 26 years old plenty old enough to stay home a few days by yourself.”
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah just looked at him.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah just wished she could be as calm about it as he was.
A few days later Kħadījah Al Tāhirah asked Muħammad once again to take her with him as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah helped him pack.
“We’ve been over this!!” Muħammad shouted at Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.” Sometimes I feel like I am babysitting a kid instead of married to a grown woman.”
Quietly Kħadījah Al Tāhirah left the bedroom and let him finish packing.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah couldn’t shake the fear growing inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
If anything Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hated being scared the most.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was angry at herself for feeling this way and angry at Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, for not giving a damn.
That night they went to bed both of them their own sides and neither of them was touching the other one.
But that seemed to be the way it went for them anymore.
The alarm went off at 5:30 am.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah opened her eyes to watch as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband dressed.
Even if they were having problems Kħadījah Al Tāhirah still found him very unconcerned.
“Would you like me to make you breakfast before you leave?”
“Just go back to bed. I can get something on the way.”
“I really don’t mind.”
“I said no!”
‘Sad that after only two years of marriage they were at this point.’
Maybe when he gets back they can go to marriage counselling.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah said to herself as she fell back asleep.
Waking up later Kħadījah Al Tāhirah noticed he had left no note of goodbye and that Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t even get a kiss before he left.
“Oh well maybe he’ll miss me and when he gets home we’ll have a great night of sex.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah said with a laugh to the empty house.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t bother to dress.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t see the use.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was home alone and lived in a nice neighborhood.
It was daylight and Kħadījah Al Tāhirah doubted if anyone could see inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s house.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was wrong.
Soon after 10:30 am the calls started coming.
At first they were just the same old calls as before.
But soon they changed and became much more terrifying.
It seemed they came every twenty minutes or so.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was getting angry by the time the calls had continued throughout the day and most of the night.
“Just stop fucking calling me you piece of shit! Why don’t you just go to hell!!!!!”
“Oh I plan on it, but I am going to take you with me.”
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hung up again and stared at the phone as it rang as soon as it was on the receiver.
“Leave me ALONE!!” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah yelled.
“We can’t now. Not after watching your husband leave this morning, KĦADĪJAH AL TĀHIRAH, JĀNUM! We know you are home all by yourself.” He laughed into the phone,” And we’ve loved the show you’ve been putting on all day for us, you little Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut!!”
Panicked now, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah ripped the phone from the wall.
Shaking Kħadījah Al Tāhirah walked to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s bedroom and it was then that Kħadījah Al Tāhirah noticed Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s bedroom window was opened.
She knew Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t open it because Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was running the A/C.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah thought about getting out of the house right then, but quickly realized Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was still naked and ran to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s closet for some clothes.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah should’ve just run outside nude, because when Kħadījah Al Tāhirah opened the closet door Kħadījah Al Tāhirah saw him.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt a hard blow to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s head then nothing…..
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” The voice called to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah struggled and finally got her eyes opened.
“Did you have a nice nap?”
She tried to move her arms but they were held tight by ropes, as were Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s feet.
“Please just let me go.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah begged.
“Not until we’re done with you.”
At the mention of the word WE’RE Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started to panic and pull against the rope.
When Kħadījah Al Tāhirah looked around Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s bedroom Kħadījah Al Tāhirah seen them.
There were six of them.
All of them seemed ready with their pants off and Uncut Hindu Cocks in hand.
None of their Uncut Hindu Cocks seemed to be under seven inches the biggest at least had to ten inches and three inches thick.
She got even more afraid.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, was quite small.
Even fully erect MAYBE two inches only.
They were going to kill Kħadījah Al Tāhirah with their Uncut Hindu Pricks I kept thinking to herself.
“See we could’ve already had our fun with you. Only we wanted to wait until you were awake to be able to see, hear and feel what we are going to do to you. Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, I assure you, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum, we won’t leave one hole untouched by our Uncut Hindu Cock. We are going to rape your extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy first. When that begins to stretch out and get too filled with our Hindu cum, we are going to fuck your Musalmān asshole too. Ever had it in your asshole, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum?”
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah shook her head, “No”.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah wouldn’t let Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, fuck her there.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah had a Hindu boyfriend back in high school who tried it.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hated it.
It hurt so bad Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started crying and told him to pull it out after only the head was inside.
So needless to say hearing them tell Kħadījah Al Tāhirah they were going to fuck Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān asshole and that there was nothing Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could do to stop it this time.
It scared Kħadījah Al Tāhirah worse than them raping Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Never. I would never forget her beautiful, sexy Musalmān mouth. Before tonight is over, you will have six Uncut Hindu Cocks in every Musalmān hole you have at least once. But knowing my group, probably you would have them a lot more than once.”
The group laughed.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started crying even louder.
He bent down and took one of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s nipples in his mouth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was ashamed to admit that if Kħadījah Al Tāhirah closed her eyes and imagined he was someone else it felt really good.
But then he bit down hard on it.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah screamed and Rām Mohan laughed.
“You didn’t think this was going to be gentle, did you??” Rām Mohan laughed a vicious laugh as he started kneading Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s breasts hard and pinching the nipples even harder.
He took his Uncut Hindu Lund and rubbed it on Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s left tit leaving a trail of precum all over Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s nipple.
“Yeah baby we are gonna have fun with you. A lot of fun.” Rām Mohan then got up on the bed with Kħadījah Al Tāhirah and positioned himself between Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful bare Musalmān legs.
He felt Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Oh no we can’t have fun with a dry extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy. Can we, Hindus??”
A chorus of “No’s” came from all the Hindus.
Rām Mohan started to open Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy lips with his fingers and stared at Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān clit.
Finding Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy hole he started to finger fuck her with first two fingers, then moved up to three.
The combination of him rubbing and pinching and even biting on Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s clit and finger fucking her was making Kħadījah Al Tāhirah wet.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel the wetness seep out from between his fingers.
“That’s a good little Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum.” Rām Mohan told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was horrified that he was able to make her wet!
Rām Mohan repositioned himself back between Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s legs and Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel him starting to push inside her with his Uncut Hindu Lund head.
“You ready for some real major Hindu penetration, baby?”
“No please don’t do this.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s plea fell on deaf ears as Rām Mohan rammed his Uncut Hindu Lund to the hilt inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah screamed.
His Uncut Hindu Lund was so much bigger than Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband; Muħammad’s that his Uncut Hindu Lund hurt!
Rām Mohan pounded in and out of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy several times.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was screaming so loud that one of his buddies had to cover Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth.
“Yeah Whore, how does this feel?? Either your husband is really small or he doesn’t fuck you very often because your extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy is tight as hell!”
The other Hindu men started stroking on their Uncut Hindu Lunds.
All of them were getting more turned on by the sight of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah spread on the bed with this Hindu man’s Uncut Hindu Lund ramming inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Please get out of me!!” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah tried to beg but with the hand over Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth it just sounded mumbled.
“Shut her up, Muħammad.” Ram Mohan, who Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could tell was their leader, told the man who was covering Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah watched an evil smile spread across his face as he straddled Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s chest.
So, a Musalmān is also with them?
What an irony.
He was also named Muħammad, as her Musalmān husband was.
“Here, Bitch.” Muħammad held his friend, Shiv Shankar’s, Uncut Hindu Lund to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s now firmly closed mouth.
A strong punch to the side of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s face made her cry out in pain and Muħammad used that opportunity to slide his friend, Shiv Shankar’s, Uncut Hindu Lund deep in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Musalmān mouth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah had never had two Uncut Hindu Lunds inside her simultaneously.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started to feel like a cheap Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum.
Muħammad continued to rape Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s face with Shiv Shankar’s Uncut Hindu Lund as Muħammad raped Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy with a vengeance.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was having trouble breathing between Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s grunts and the Uncut Hindu Lund that was now wedged deep in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s throat.
After a time of them tag teaming her, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started to feel Rām Mohan’s balls tighten as they hit Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful gorgeous Musalmān ass.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knew Rām Mohan was close to cumming.
Since Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad was Musalmān he didn’t believe in birth control and Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started trying to beg him not to cum inside her.
But with the huge Uncut Hindu Lund inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth, it just sounded like more grunts.
After a few more strokes Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel Rām Mohan’s Hindu seed pouring into Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s battered extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel the Hindu warmth fill her.
Not long after his Uncut Hindu Lund shrank up and fell out of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, Shiv Shankar started filling Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth with his Hindu cum too.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah had no choice but to shallow his Hindu spunk since his Uncut Hindu Lund was still deep in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth.
It was either swallow it or choke.
“Nice ride baby.” Rām Mohan was saying to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah as he wiped his Uncut Hindu Lund on Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s asshole and squeezing his penis so that the last bit of his Hindu cum was lubricating the Musalmān hole.
Then Kħadījah Al Tāhirah saw three more of his Hindu men advanced towards the bed.
One of them, Prabhu Dayāl, untied Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s feet and turned her over.
“Up on all fours, Bitch.” Prabhu Dayāl told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hesitated and was rewarded with another blow to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s face from the man standing closest to her.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah lifted her lower body up as far as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could since there were still roped tying down Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s hands.
But that was soon to be corrected.
Once Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s hands were free from one of the ropes, one man got under Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s body and lined his Uncut Hindu Lund up with Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy hole.
With one hard upward thrust Prabhu Dayāl was inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
She grunted as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt Prabhu Dayāl’s big Uncut Hindu Lund fill Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Once again Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was filled both in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy and mouth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel Shiv Shankar rubbing something on Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s asshole.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started trying to move away as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt his Uncut Hindu Lund tearing open Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s gorgeous Musalmān ass.
The burning pain Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān ass obliterated the pain Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy and throat.
At once Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knew this was the owner of the ten inch Uncut Hindu Lund.
“I gotta break you in, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum. How do you like being fucked like the bitch you are?” Shiv Shankar laughed.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah controlled herself.
She stopped the tears from running down her face.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s controlled her nose also from beginning to run as it always did whenever Kħadījah Al Tāhirah cried making it even harder to breathe.
It was a sheer foolishness to accept before these sex obsessed Hindus that she was being humiliated and disgraced.
Let them understand they were actually serving her, instead of humiliating her.
It was the only way to win over the devils.
They are prepared for Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s noncooperation.
Why not cooperate with them?
Her noncooperation with them can’t change the facts even a bit.
The fact is now Kħadījah Al Tāhirah is not a One Man Woman anymore.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah is now their woman whether she liked it or not.
She can’t undo what has been done.
So, why not enjoy it now?
But does it make any difference now?
She has recognized now all the six Hindu scoundrels.
They belong to Shiv Senā.
But actually Shiv Shankar Bachhalyā is a Congressman.
He has put his five men in Shiv Senā and BJP.
She knew it very well.
So, these are the five men Shiv Shankar Bachhalyā has in Shiv Senā and BJP?
Before long Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s body was covered in sweat and Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was making sounds Kħadījah Al Tāhirah had never made before.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel him deep deep in her bowels.
The burning intense pain almost made her pass out again, but the man whose Uncut Hindu Lund was in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth slapped her across Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s face.
“None of that now, baby. I need this Uncut Hindu Lund sucked….Dry!!” Prabhu Dayāl told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
The three fucked her for what seemed an eternity.
Finally the one in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy started to cum and watching this the one in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth soon followed.
He finally, after another ten hours at least, Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Ten long hours? Kħadījah Al Tāhirah couldn’t believe herself she was being fucked now for ten hours continuously nonstop by these Hindu scoundrels.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt him then pull out.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah sighed a relief when he was finally out of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān asshole completely.
Throughout the rest of the night and most of the early morning hours too, not one of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān holes was that wasn’t filled by an Uncut Hindu Lund.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel the Hindu cum flowing out of her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy like a sink faucet and even Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s distended and open Musalmān asshole couldn’t hold the Hindu cum in, as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt it continuously flowing down Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s legs.
The Hindu men took pictures and even made a movie of her while after all this torment Kħadījah Al Tāhirah actually had an orgasm.
They threatened to show them to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, if Kħadījah Al Tāhirah ever said anything.
They don’t have to worry Kħadījah Al Tāhirah never would.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah never could after Kħadījah Al Tāhirah cummed for these savage Hindu men as many times as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could.
After this experience, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knew now that she was a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum, for these six powerful Hindus.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah belong to these Hindu men that visit her regularly now when Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, is out of town or even sometimes while he’s at work.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah can’t even honestly call it rape anymore.
It has turned now into something Kħadījah Al Tāhirah crave.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knows she needs help.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knows that it isn’t right.
But it’s the truth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s own dark truth.
To make it worse as if it could get worse, now whenever Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, fucks her, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah have to closes her eyes and pretends she is being gang raped by the group of Hindu men who still visits her often.
And only then can Kħadījah Al Tāhirah cum for Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad.
Not without it.*
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was on the debate team, but was not a mindless athlete.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was pretty smart, actually, and although Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was somewhat popular I didn’t let it get to my head.
The moment I saw her, I fumbled into the hallway, gave a cute little smile, and promptly dropped my towel.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was startled about the incredible situation Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had just been placed in.
Here Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was, newly single, and one of the hottest guys in the University stood before her, naked as the day Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was born.
I winked at her softly before Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s eyes travelled from my, down the length of my torso before they came to rest on the long, thick Hindu mass that was erect now between my legs.
In one moment Al Fātimah Al Zohrah recovered.
“Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Durgesh,” Al Fātimah Al Zohrah whimpered softly. “You’re erect like a rhinoceros.” Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had meant it to sound like a joke, but it only sounded as how she really felt—in total awe.
I stared back in self pride for a few seconds, before my face erupted into an enormous grin.
“Yo, Shankar!” I called over my shoulder. “Come out here and look what I got us!”
My words sent a shiver through Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s spine.
There was something proprietary, something dangerous about them.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah didn’t know Shankar, the leaner boy who appeared behind me with the twisted-up towel swung over my shoulder and not a stitch anywhere else on my body.
But he looked familiar; Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was sure Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had seen him around somewhere.
His short buzz cut was unmistakable and was a sharp contrast to my hair.
But my Uncut Hindu Lund!
Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Måshā Allah Subħān Allah my Uncut Hindu Lund!
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah couldn’t stop staring at it, and I caught it on pretty fast.
“Whatcha doing here so late, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah?” I asked, establishing eye contact with Al Fātimah Al Zohrah. I started to walk forward. “A girl could get into a lot of trouble alone here.”
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah decided to play along.
“Oh I know,” she said, feigning innocence. “I hadn’t been the smartest tonight. Why, do you think there might be some
sort of trouble?”*
“Isn’t it a fact?” Dr. Vishñu Dév Mahāmr’tyunjaý was concerned now somewhat.
“Dr. Vishñu Dév Mahāmr’tyunjaý,” Brahmdév Sharmā said to him curtly, “Mahéshvar is a Bachhalyā. Don’t forget Musalmān Beauties were always after Bachhalyās. The entire human history stands to evidence for it.”
Nāzimah Yåqūb smiled.
“Nāzimah Yåqūb,” Dr. Vishñu Dév Mahāmr’tyunjaý smiled too, “You are forgetting the fact that Mahéshvar Bachhalyā is actually married to Brahmdév Sharmā’s sisters, Vipr Mohinī Sharmā, Brahm Mahādévī Sharmā and Brahmvijayā Sharmā.”
“All the three of them?” Nāzimah Yåqūb watched them with a smirk on her extremely beautiful face.
“Well,” Dr. Vishñu Dév Mahāmr’tyunjaý adjusted his body in a different manner on the sofa chair, “Vipr Mohinī Sharmā is actually Mahéshvar Bachhalyā’s duly married wife. But both Brahm Mahādévī Sharmā and Brahmvijayā Sharmā are also his Live in Relationship Partners. You know it very well.”
Nāzimah Yåqūb laughed.
Brahmdév Sharmā felt himself tremendously humiliated.
His wife Jāhnavī Dīxit had demanded Durgesh from him.
Jāhnavī Dīxit smiled.
“Lord Vishñu were also Vr’ndā’s and Tulsī’s nandoī.” Jāhnavī Dīxit winked at her Brāhmañ husband, “yet, he fucked both Vr’ndā and Tulsī. Didn’t he?”
Brahmdév Sharmā looked at his beautiful wife helplessly.
“Jāhnavī Dīxit, am I not enough for you?”
“You are crazy.”
“Neverrrrrrrrrrrrrr.” Brahmdév Sharmā shouted, “Sālī, you are a Brahmkanyā. Never forget it.”
“How foolish and stupid you Brāhmañs are, my dear Brāhmañ husband.” Jāhnavī Dīxit laughed ironically, “You allow Musalmān Beauties to suck you, but not your own Brāhmañ wives. You Brāhmañs are also sick of your religion as the Musalmīn are.”
“Shut up! You bitch.”
Muħammad Yåqūb entered there.
“Hello everybody, Nāzimah, some Kħadījah Al Tāhirah wants to see you.”
Nāzimah Yåqūb smiled at her husband.
“Don’t you know her?”
“I know so many Kħadījah Al Tāhirahs. I don’t know who this one is out of them.”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Durgesh Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm
It was just supposed to be a ride home for a casual friend that Muħammad and Kħadījah knew from their local watering hole.
Honestly, that was the intention, but fate?, luck?, happenstance? intervened…
That Friday night was a bit on the slow side at Kħadījah’s what it being the holiday weekend and all that.
Sidrah Aħmad and I were there for Sidrah Aħmad’s a TGIF drink or five.
Sidrah Aħmad wanted to shoot a bit of pool too.
It was mostly regulars in Kħadījah’s that night with a few ‘newbies’ thrown in the mix.
Sidrah Aħmad was taking on challengers on one of the pool tables while I socialized with some of our friends, etc.
On some Fridays, we were usually at a party hosted by some of the swingers that were members of the same ‘social’ club that we belonged to, but, not this night.
Sidrah Aħmad enjoyed the threesomes as a treat.
Of course, she did couples as well, but had you asked Sidrah Aħmad her preference, threesomes would have been her answer.
But this night wasn’t about swinging, at least that’s how it started out.
Around ten or so, Kħadījah’s had thinned out to maybe ten or twelve regulars, one of which was Durgesh, I, an older Hindu in my sixty-two.
At this time, Sidrah Aħmad was thirty-eight and I was sixty-two, not old, but older.
Anyway, I had been around a year or so, having moved here for a new ashvinātam sex adventure, if I could have it.
I was on the quiet side, polite, and very amicable.
I had drifted to Muħammad and Kħadījah’s table.
Muħammad and I taking turns against Sidrah Aħmad on the pool table and sharing drinks and shots.
I was of course participating in with juices, not with alcohol.
Alcohol caused sleep to the Para Conscious mind while Stavans and Trishapt used to awaken it.
Well, actually, we did most of the shots since Muħammad was the DD, the designated driver, and I was nursing my drinks carefully even while taking juices only.
Sidrah Aħmad, as usual, looked splendid; five foot eight, a hundred and ten pounds in a slim, athletic body, and, as usual, braless in a form-flattering tee.
Tiring of playing pool, we all decided to have one last nightcap and leave.
I casually mentioned that I was going to call a cab and get my car tomorrow since Sidrah Aħmad‘d had a ‘bit too much’, so to speak, and needed my car herself.
Muħammad chimed in that they’d be happy to give me a lift to my Ashvinātam Palace, to which, Kħadījah smilingly agreed.
It was as they waited for me to make a pit stop before we left Sidrah Aħmad’s that I noticed, for the first time, the ‘look’ in Kħadījah’s eyes, on her face.
“You get turned on by something?” I kiddingly asked, adding, “Or is it just a bit of the Tequila making you horny?”
Laughing, Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm replied, “Is it that obvious? Damn, I need to work on my poker face,” adding, “that it was a bit of both.”
“Really?” So what turned you on?” Muħammad asked in return.
“You have to admit that Durgesh is a rather cute, young package and you know how I get when I drink Tequila,” Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm smilingly said.
“Hey, Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, I may be cute to you but I’m not a young package anymore.”
“Nonsense!” Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, thirty-eight only, smiled at me now rather seductively.
“Believe me. I’m sixty two, my dear.”
“Durgesh the multi zillionaire?” Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm confirmed my identity once more incredulously, “Durgesh darling, Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!?”
“Of course,” I smiled, “the same. But I’m sixty two.”
Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm looked at her Musalmān husband, Muħammad,
“What do you say, Muħammad?”
“Well, he is thirty two. Some persons claim he is twenty eight actually.”
Later, a few years down the road, there would be a country song about how “Tequila makes her clothes fall off,” or something like that. That could have been written about Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm.
“Do you want to have a ‘go’ at Durgesh?” Muħammad asked.
She got a pensive look, scrunched up her face a bit, and replied, “I don’t know, what do you think?”
Seeing me emerging from the restroom, Muħammad simply replied, “Play it as you want, baby, I’m game if it goes that way.”
“Damn, ya’ll sure you don’t want me to take a cab so that you can get home,” I said, laughing afterwards.
With a hint of where her head was now, Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm laughed and gave me a quick peck on the lips, saying,
“Well, if I can’t wait until we get home, and since I’m in the company of two good-looking men, I ought to be able to solve my problem, don’t you think?”
She pulled me by my hand towards the door while my alcohol-free brain quickly processed what I had just heard.
Muħammad simply smiled when he looked at me questioningly, following the two of them out of the door.
In his opinion, Muħammad was exchanging his extremely beautiful with me, swinging.
He was giving me an opportunity to fuck his, till now exclusively faithful to him, wife, Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm.
The swingers never knew that most of them were never getting an opportunity to fuck the wife of the opposite man.
But in return, they never got my wife or any of my actual Live in Relationship Partner.
My wife was my exclusive territory.
My only wife.
None without her or my exclusive express permission could even reach her.
She never needed it.
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD loved me for my never compromising Multiversal Humanity, and for nothing else.
Sidrah Aħmad was one of my extremely loyal friends only.
Yes, I fuck Sidrah Aħmad.
Sidrah Aħmad also fucks me.
But that’s all we expect from each other.
An altogether different kind of ethics.
Perhaps no other religion, except Hinduism only, allowed this kind of ethics ever and even praised it.
But Hinduism praised even the atheists dedicating their life for humanity.
Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm flipped up the fold-down armrest in my car.
She slid into the middle of the front seat, pulling me in with her to sit ‘shotgun’.
After I got in and started the car, she casually remarked as she settled in between us,
“Ooooh, between two guys, does it get any better than this for a gal?”
Leaning towards me as I was about to drive away, she gave me a long, tongue-probing kiss.
Breaking off the ashvinātam kiss with me, as Muħammad slipped the car into gear, Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm winked at me, saying,
“Seems like, to be fair, I owe Durgesh a kiss more, don’t you think?” and turning her head towards me , she leaned over and gave me a sweet, soft kiss, her eyes quickly flashing up to Muħammad’s in a questioning look.
Muħammad smiled at her, nodded his head in approval, and drove away as Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm and I continued to kiss.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān hand kept casually dropping onto my thigh as we did so.
Muħammad had already given me directions to his place, which I followed.
The sounds from us indicating that the soft, sweet ashvinātam kiss was getting a bit more intense.
Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm leaned into me once more.
This time with her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān hand behind my head and her awfully lovely outstanding superb Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body turned more towards me to better facilitate our ashvinātam kiss.
Muħammad glanced over and saw Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s nipples straining the fabric of her tee as we continued to kiss.
Such crazy Musalmīn were never updated.
They were not living in twenty first century at all.
For them the Time Cycle had stopped at Seventh Century, forever.
That’s why such Honor Killings for such backward Musalmīn were not only normal, it was their essence of existence even.
I was always careful about such crazy backward Musalmīn.
Being a multi zillionaire now it was not difficult for me to arrange for my safety and security first.
My wife, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD, Kħadījah Muħammad, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Sidrah Aħmad, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, and my infinite Posthumans Musalmān Live in Relationship Partners were even more vigilant.
Moreover, every one of them, without even a single exception, was always punished by us, with intense humiliation.
They were made to lick our cum mixed with the cum of their Musalmān houseladies.
They were even compelled to drink our urine mixed with the urine of their Musalmān houseladies and their terrorist Musalmān mouths were being used as our toilets including the toilets for their own Musalmān houseladies too.
They were imprisoned in ultramodern ever-updated Kālchakr Tilism.
They never could run away from there.*
“Hi darling! This is Furqān Ibrāhīm…Furqān Ibrāhīm; this is my stepdaughter, Kħālidah Qamar.”
“Hi Furqān Ibrāhīm. At last, I have the chance to finally meet you. I heard a lot about you!”
Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ, 39, a doctor and a colleague of her Hindu stepfather’s Durgesh at HVSI Hospital.
We had been dating for the past 4 months.
The Musalmān Beauty facing her was pretty and petite.
Kħālidah Qamar guessed she was about 5 feet 4 inches in height and she had the most appealing laughter.
Her Hindu stepfather, I, incessantly made jokes at the table and she realized that I was happy to be with this Musalmān Beauty.
The dinner lasted 2 hours and Kħālidah Qamar genuinely liked Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ.
She was much different from Mumtāz Yåqūb, her mother who had left her Abbū for me, 10 years ago.
Her Ammī, Mumtāz Yåqūb, was a bombshell with huge tits, smoky grey eyes, blonde-ash hair and killer legs.
She could not be a ‘mother’ to Kħālidah Qamar, saying that domesticated life was a prison to her.
One day when Kħālidah Qamar was 9, she came back home from school finding her Ammī, Mumtāz Yåqūb, had packed her suitcase in front of their house waiting for her ‘new Hindu lover, I,’ to take her away.
Kħālidah Qamar was devastated but since Mumtāz Yåqūb was not much of a Ammī to start with, Kħālidah Qamar continued her life happily with her Hindu stepfather, Durgesh, and her loving Hindu dad had become both a Ammī and a father to her.
His numerous Musalmān girlfriends started to take care of Kħālidah Qamar, even if her own immensely Westernized Ammī, Mumtāz Yåqūb, didn’t pay proper attention to her.
She loved me, the Hindu man, with all her heart, who even snatched away her extra ordinary beautiful Ammī, Mumtāz Yåqūb, from her real Abbū.
“Thank you Durgesh, for the pleasant dinner. Thanks to you too Kħālidah Qamar.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ?” We kissed and I walked her to her car.
As we were driving home, Kħālidah Qamar noticed her Hindu stepfather, Durgesh, was ceaselessly talking about Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ.
How nice she was.
How well she could cook.
How caring she was.
How lovely her family was.
Kħālidah Qamar simply smiled and nodded to her Hindu stepdad with every remark that I made about her.
Kħālidah Qamar had to show that she cared about his happiness and Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ, but deep down in her heart, she hated every single second of it.
Kħālidah Qamar loved her Hindu stepfather, Durgesh, more than she even loved herself.
She could not bear the thought that she was going to share this man with Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ.
She did not hate us, but she could not have her Hindu stepfather, Durgesh, finding happiness in the arms of another Musalmān Beauty.
Only she could make her Hindu stepfather, Durgesh, happy, not Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ, as I was the center of her life.
“You are mine Durgesh Papa Jī. I’m your another Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. I’d provide you everywhere as much sex as you love to have, not that bloody Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ. Never.” She gritted her teeth to herself.
She continued smiling and nodding with whatever I was saying.
At sixty-three even, I looked gorgeously hottest.
With my aquamarine eyes I was making Musalmān Beauties from 15 to 60 years of age drooled over me.
Kħālidah Qamar was quite surprised that I was never tired of dating Musalmān Beauties.
“Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī,…you really like her, don’t you?” She suddenly asked.
“Think so Kħālidah Qamar. I’m so happy that you like her too. You like her don’t you?”
“Yes…I…do. I really do. She’s do different from my Ammī Mumtāz Yåqūb too.”
She noticed my countenance hardened with anger.
I could never forgive Mumtāz Yåqūb for neglecting Kħālidah Qamar; as I really loved her and her betrayal was too much for me.
Even her real Abbū knew that Mumtāz Yåqūb was cheating behind his back.
He did forgive her, but, nevertheless, she could never be a wife to him and an Ammī to his daughter.
Muħammad Qamar Sheikħ was the cuckold Musalmān husband, cuckolded to me by his extraordinary beautiful wife, Mumtāz Yåqūb.
Everyone was talking about Mumtāz Yåqūb me, and still he tried so hard to hold on to his marriage.
However, she finally left him for good.
She did come back and visit him three times for the past ten years, but Kħālidah Qamar hated her so much that their meeting always ended in disaster.
The car pulled into the driveway and stopped.
Her Hindu stepfather, I, was a caring and loving Dad.
I did not even notice.
I then kissed her on the temple lovingly before I opened the door and went out.
She brought her fingers on the temple and touched where my lips kissed her skin while her other hand grasped her breast that was inflamed by her Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī’s touch.
My knock on the car window brought her back to her senses.
She was relieved that the window was tinted.
I opened the door for her and we walked hand in hand into the house.
I directly went into my reading room while Kħālidah Qamar went into the kitchen to have a glass of water.
When, she came out from the kitchen her Hindu stepfather, I, was at the bottom of the stairs on my way up to my bedroom.
“Durgesh Papa Jī? Can you please carry me up to my room like we used to?”
“Really Kħālidah Qamar? You’re too old for that. You’re 19 for Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā‘s sake!” I smiled.
“Oh…come on Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī. Please!” She begged and she knew that her Durgesh Papa Jī could never say no to her whims.
She was deliriously happy as she could straddle her Hindu stepfather, I, facing my handsome face.
Her lean legs were around my Hindu waist while her arms were around my neck.
She put her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān head under my chin and drank the scent of my Hindu body making her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot quivered and juices started to flow.
She had to control her breathing because the movement made by me, as I was climbing the stairs, rocked and rubbed her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tits and her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot against the material of my shirt.
Her nipples puckered with the contact and her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot oozed more juices.
“Here we are princess.” I lowered her in front of the door to her bedroom.
“Sleep tight.” I kissed her lips and went into my bedroom.*
A flash of light lit her room and a rumble woke her up from sleep.
Kħālidah Qamar used to be frightened of thunderstorms, but no more.
Only she knew this.
I would come to her room and comfort her.
Sometimes, she could sleep in my bed until morning and feel the warmth of my Hindu body enveloping her.
“Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Durgesh, Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah! Thank God for thunderstorms!” Kħālidah Qamar muttered.
She bolted from her bed and quickly opened the door to her bedroom.
She scurried out from her room and she was joyful when she saw her Hindu stepfather, I, was already walking towards her room.
My chest was deliciously bare and her eyes could not help but stared at my hairy lean Hindu male chest.
“You okay baby?” I asked as I hugged her.
“I…I’m so scared Durgesh Papa Jī!” She cried and wrapped her arms around me and savored the warmth of my body radiating through the sheer silk nightgown she was wearing.
She was not wearing any bra or panties that night; and her nipples were pebble hard under the silk.
Kħālidah Qamar pushed her excellent exquisite perfect firm round plump chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female body deeper into my Hindu male embrace and felt the delicious rapture of her excellent exquisite perfect Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female lust.
“Come Kħālidah Qamar. Let’s go to my room.”
Her Hindu stepfather, I, wrapped her with the soft blanket.
I went to the other side of the bed and came to her side.
“Sleep Kħālidah Qamar. I’m here. Don’t worry.” I kissed the bridge of her nose, put my arm around her and drifted back into slumber.
She waited until I was sound asleep.
Then, she moved closer towards her Hindu stepfather, I, and removed the blanket from both of our bodies.
She then pushed down her nightgown to her tiny waist.
She touched my hand softly.
I did not stir.
She then brought her Durgesh Papa Jī’s Hindu hand inch by inch until it rested on her tit.
“Ah…,” she moaned feeling my warm Hindu hand on it.
Her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot started to drip more of her juices.
Her face came closer to my chest, licked my hairy chest.
I groaned in my sleep and the hand on her tit started massaging and kneading it roughly.
“Ah…Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ…love…you…tits.” I said with my eyes closed.
She raised her excellent exquisite perfect firm round plump chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female body up slightly and guided her other tit to her Hindu stepfather, my warm Hindu lips.
My breath touched her nipple and it puckered even more.
She sucked her breath with the pleasure brought by it.
She then grazed my lower lip with her pebble-hard-nipple and she buckled with the sensation squeezing her legs to pressure her soaked excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her Dad, ‘Durgesh Papa Jī’, slowly opened my lips and kissed hard on her nipple.
I used my teeth to nip on the sensitive bud of her breast with my eyes still shut.
“Ah…oh…Durgesh Papa Jī…ah!” Kħālidah Qamar whimpered and closed her eyes enjoying the pleasure.
Kħālidah Qamar was convinced that I was having the nicest dream as I was massaging and devouring her breasts.
I kept calling her Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ.
I seemed to love the satiny salty tastes of her breast as I kept kissing it hard; and my hand squeezed and kneaded her tit.
She moaned again and she called me Durgesh Papa Jī.
“Yes Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ…call me Durgesh.” I muttered on her breast.
I kissed her nipple hard and used the tip of my tongue to torture the pebble-hard nipple.
She moaned again calling me.
My expression suddenly changed in my sleep, I looked confused.
Kħālidah Qamar quickly closed her eyes, pretending to be sleeping.
My eyes flew opened and I saw my hand was on Kħālidah Qamar’s tit while my mouth on her other tit still kissing.
I seemed unable to stop my actions as I was experiencing the most pleasurable feeling touching my stepdaughter in such a way.
My 19-year-old stepdaughter was practically naked on my bed with her nightgown was now around her waist as it had also risen to her navel.
She had no panties and she was dripping with juices.
My Uncut Hindu Lund quivered with the sight.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, My God! Kħ…Kħ…Kħālidah Qamar, wake up honey.”
She continued to close her eyes and moaned even louder.
She was happy that her Hindu stepfather, I, had not removed my hand on her tit and she sluggishly moved one hand, pressed it on her Hindu stepfather, My hand that was molding her tit; encouraging me more.
She could feel my Uncut Hindu Lund quivered in my pajama.
“Oh… Kħālidah Qamar…this is not happening.” She could hear me say; nevertheless, I did not take away my hand from her tit.
She opened her legs and nudged me a little with her wet opened excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
I had moved from her tit and looked down her length.
And she could feel my whole body froze.
May be I was shocked with what about to happen.
I was about to fuck my hot Musalmān stepdaughter.
To her disappointment, I slowly removed her hand from hers.
Then, I lifted the hand from her tit and covered my stepdaughter’s navel with the silk nightgown.
I too covered her with the blanket and in the cloak of darkness; she could see I was jerking off my throbbing Uncut Hindu Lund through her semi-closed lid.
I went into the bathroom.
Kħālidah Qamar felt her eyes stung with frustration and turned to her right, with her back to the bathroom.
Her nipples and her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot were still quivering from lust.
She inserted one finger in her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and fingered herself hard.
She bit her lower lips to prevent herself from moaning loud in her Hindu stepfather, my bed.
She inserted another finger and shuddered with pleasure.
Her mind was spinning with images of her naked Hindu stepfather ramming my Uncut Hindu Lund into her wet excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, into her mouth and she, sucking my Uncut Hindu Lund.
She cum under the blanket and later brought her fingers into her mouth.
Kħālidah Qamar licked the juices.
Her Hindu stepfather, I, came out from the bathroom after sometime and I slipped back into bed.
I was behind her and I drew her closer into my embrace nuzzling her neck.
Suddenly, Kħālidah Qamar felt my tongue licked her neck and nipped her earlobe while my hand grasped her breast.
I for quite some time kneaded her tit and I moved my hand lower and rubbed her mound that was covered with the thin material of her nightgown.
Kħālidah Qamar felt thrilled that I was actually lusting for her.
To her frustration, as fast as it happened, it ended.
She steeled herself from the overwhelming disappointment.
I then kissed her on her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān head, turned to my other side and slept.*
Kħālidah Qamar woke up the next day when she could feel the sun’s ray on her face.
She opened her eyes and quickly searched for her Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī, on her left.
I was not there.
She put her hand on the bed where I had lain and it was cold.
She was frustrated with the knowledge.
She could hear that I had gone downstairs and the kettle was whistling.
She rose from the bed and went to her bedroom.
She washed her face in her small bathroom and brushed her teeth thinking what to do with her Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī,.
When she entered the kitchen, I was facing the window looking out to the garden behind our house.
She crept towards me and hugged my warm body from behind.
She could feel my body froze up.
She pressed her ample tits onto my warm back just to tempt me more.
Her hands deliberately went lower down my abdomen and stayed there.
She could feel how her Hindu stepfather, I, tried to steel myself from her touch.
“Morning Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī!”
“Oh……morning Kħālidah Qamar.”
She then tipped-toed and kissed my left temple and let me go.
“What’s for breakfast?”
I turned to face her and she noted that I was averting from looking into her eyes and I looked flustered.
“Breakfast? Well…What do you want? Toast? Scrambled eggs?
“Toast would be fine Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī.”
Kħālidah Qamar was still in her silk nightgown and she purposely let one strap of the nightgown fell down her shoulder exposing the generous swell of her right breast.
“Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī,? What are doing today?” she asked.
I moved my eyes from the newspaper and she noticed her Dad.
My eyes darted to the swell of her tit, and then to her face, unconsciously back to her tit, and back to her face.
I swallowed hard.
She rejoiced that her plan was set in motion.
“There is some stuff I got to do. Yeah…stuff…things to do.” My eyes glanced at her boobs.
“And…and tonight I’m going out with…with…Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ. We have a movie to catch. You?”
“I wanna stay home today. Maybe do some sunbathing or swimming.”
“Okay… Kħālidah Qamar. Will you excuse me? I want to…to…,”
“To what Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī?”
“To do…stuff, Kħālidah Qamar! Stuff!”
“Are you okay Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī? Did you sleep well last night? You seem…weird.”
“Yes…yes I did sleep well last night. W…why are you asking?” My eyes dilated.
“You’re so restless and fidgety.”
“Fidgety? No!” I rose from my chair and left her.*
She put on her bright yellow bikini; looked at herself in the mirror and smiled.
She went downstairs and went into her Hindu stepfather, my reading room where I was lying on a divan with a cushion under my head reading a book.
She moved to the sofa and her Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī, slowly put down the book on my crotch.
“I’m going for a swim Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī. Wanna join me?”
“Sālī,” I gritted my teeth.
Kħālidah Qamar was gradually becoming bolder with me.
“I want to read this book.” I smiled, “so naturally I can’t join you.”
“Durgesh Papa Jī! Are you sure? It’s about telescopes. Come on Dad, Let’s go for a swim.” She insisted.
“You go Kħālidah Qamar. I’m fine.”
“Oh Dad! Come on…please?” She went down her knees and held my right arm tightly against her bikini clad tits.
She deliberately squished my arm to her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tits.
She tugged my arm so that I could feel her nipples and the softness of her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tits.
Her breasts now were sandwiched between her excellent exquisite perfect firm round plump chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female body and my strong wide Hindu chest.
She could feel I tried to take away my body, but she didn’t allow me to do so.
Now I was trying my best not to breathe hard.
“Please…Durgesh Papa Jī? Swim with me?”
“Try to understand darling. No…I…can’t…no…I don’t want to swim today!”
Kħālidah Qamar rose.
She tugged my left arm to pull me up from the divan.
I was too strong and I resisted.
Kħālidah Qamar pulled again.
I then jerked my arm too strongly.
Her generous tits were on my face while her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was exactly on my Uncut Hindu Lund.
It opened her labial lips and my knob was inside before I could do anything.
I couldn’t understand how it happened.
She felt the delicious feeling of my Hindu breath on the soft skin of her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tits.
“Ops Durgesh Papa Jī! I’m sorry.” Kħālidah Qamar raised her excellent exquisite perfect firm round plump chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female body up while holding my shoulders.
My eyes were staring at her spilling dangling tits just inches from my mouth.
She deliberately slipped her hold on my shoulder, making her right tit squashed on my mouth.
I closed my eyes and swallowed a groan.
“So sorry Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī. I’m so clumsy!” the young adult smart Musalmān girl wiggled between my Hindu legs trying to get up and she could feel the wonderful tantalizing feeling of my throbbing Uncut Hindu Lund between her young adult virgin Musalmān labial lips.
She slid to her left and rose from the divan.
She smiled when she saw my Uncut Hindu Lund grew in between her labial lips.
I looked grave with what had just happening between my young adult sweet nineteen smart Musalmān stepdaughter and me.
Nevertheless, Kħālidah Qamar knew that her plan was unfolding itself and her Hindu stepfather, I, now lusted for her.
Yes, I was trying to hide it from her behind my seniority, majority and gravity.
But Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had trained her properly,
“Don’t let him succeed ever. He is your husband, your lover, and not—NOT your father.”
“But he is forty four years elder to me.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled mischievously,
“It does not make his Uncut Hindu Lund limp for you, idiot.”
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD smiled,
“I want all of us, his entire Musalmān stepdaughters I mean, his Live in Relationship Partners.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan announced, “Durgesh is our Hindu husband, NOT our Hindu father. We are not responsible that our Ammīs joined his bed before us.”
The entire episode whirled before her eyes and that made her so thrilled and happy.
“Fine Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī.” Kħālidah Qamar suddenly changed her strategy, “I’ll swim by myself.”
She said after sometime and left the reading room.*
Suddenly I heard her scream.
“Help! Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī! Help me!” She screamed and bobbed her excellent exquisite perfect firm round plump chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female body in the water.
“Durgesh Papa Jī! Help me…Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī!”
She could hear the door being opened roughly and sank her excellent exquisite perfect firm round plump chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female body deeper into the swimming pool.
Within seconds, she could feel my arms around her waist and pulled her out from the pool.
I was breathing hard and I looked worried.
I wiped her hair away from her face and touched her face.
“You okay…baby? What…happened?”
“Where?” Her Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī, glided my hands on her wet legs.
“The right one.”
I then kneaded and massaged her right thigh.
From her knee, I slowly kneaded the muscle up to the juncture of her thigh.
My eyes all of a sudden looked into her.
“Kħālidah Qamar …your muscles are okay.” There was a long pause. “Your muscles are not experiencing any cramps…right?” her Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī, asked.
“I do have cramps in my muscle Durgesh Papa Jī. Here.” She grasped my hand on her thigh and pressed it onto her wet soaking mound covered with the flimsy yellow bikini.
She then pressed her legs tightly together and moaned.
I snatched my hand away and rose to my feet.
I was breathing hard and my eyes were clouded with immensely suppressed lust for her.
Kħālidah Qamar could see my Uncut Hindu Lund swelled in my wet trousers.
I covered my face with my hands, turned around and sat on one of the lounge chairs near the pool.
“What’s wrong with me? And…What’s gotten into you Kħālidah Qamar? If you hate Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ, just tell me. Y…you don’t have to do this.”
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, Oh…God! What is happening to me? I am lusting over my own stepdaughter!” I whimpered looking up to the blue sky as if asking to Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, the God, why I couldn’t I control this lust for my young stepdaughter.
Kħālidah Qamar gradually rose from her spot and walked towards me.
I was still distraught by my reaction and my young adult sweet nineteen smart Musalmān stepdaughter’s actions.
She knelt near my legs and held my left thigh.
“Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī…I don’t hate Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ. Really. But…I want…you.” Kħālidah Qamar acknowledged to me bravely.
My eyes flew to her face.
“I always wanted you Durgesh Papa Jī. And…and… I just can’t lose you to her!” her eyes were welling with tears.
“Oh KĦĀLIDAH QAMAR! You don’t want me. I’m your stepfather. I’m old, not young like…Pragýésh.”
“I dumped him Durgesh Papa Jī! he never fucked me. When he tried to, I refused him even to allow touching me. I could only imagine that it was your Uncut Hindu Lund inside me Durgesh Papa Jī always. Filling my Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot!”
I was dumbfounded.
I never imagined Kħālidah Qamar could go to this extent ever.
Why have I to be defeated always by my own wives?
Entire Brahmarshis supported her, not me.
They succeeded in making the new law:
‘Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté.’
‘Only Savarñā wife is constituted for Shūdr, none else.’
—Manu Smr’ti: 9|157
Sherza succeed then.
And the same Time Cycle is once again making herrza victorious in her every movement:
‘Al Jihād no incest’
Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī succeeded then.
Now, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is succeeding.
The Time Cycle is helping her in almost her every movement.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī had to fly to Ved Nagar from Miami.
His Ammī had returned to Ved Nagar.
His daughters also accompanied him.
They reached Ved Nagar even sooner than Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī had anticipated.
Saiyadah Fātimah Muħammad PhD retorted,
“Yes, I can see Bājī. You live here now.”
“Not only myself. It’s a City of Parahumen and zillionaires. Believe it or not, there are persons now who suspect this City is the Capitol of HVS.”
“Allah, Bājī, you and your Durgesh addiction.”
“It’s Scientific Achievement, my dear. They say: ‘There wasn’t any Mi’raj. It isn’t possible.’ Nonsense.”
Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī wanted to do all the foolish things a son did to his Ammī after a separation.
“Time Traveler, I’m not your Ammī. I’m your Ammī’s very very personal lady robot.”
Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī couldn’t believe his eyes.
He would have jumped showing his immense surprise if the lady robot hadn’t requested him,
“Your Ammī doesn’t want this secret known to anyone except yourself.”***
Muħammad Åbbās Hāshmī couldn’t afford to look his daughters even.
He doubted he might give away to his daughters.
It would not be in accordance his Ammī’s plans.
“It’s good to see you, Ammī, again.” He managed to say somehow.
He didn’t know even when the lady robot exactly identical to her was made by his Ammī.
He knew however his Ammī herself had time traveled when she was nineteen only.
Her finger closed to a comfortable but not painful pressure and then released it.
Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī hoped earnestly that the creature’s unreadable eyes could not penetrate his mind.
Allah, did his own mother wanted to keep more efficient eyes on him?
Why otherwise she had sent her very personal robot to welcome him?
Dr. Saiyadah Āmnah was a mystery herself.
He pinched himself.
No, he was not dreaming.
He was very much awake.
It was surprising to him that even after knowing that it was not his Ammī, a lady robot instead, all of him was still concentrated into a feeling of an intense love for his Ammī.
He never believed that his Ammī fed him her vaginal juices mixed with my Hindu Vīrý instead of milk ab initio.
But, yes, since he came to his own senses, Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī was licking his Ammī’s vaginal juices mixed with my Hindu Vīrý.
There was a rumor that his Ammī was preparing to claim that she was Ummil Rasūlallāh Ħuzūrsreincarnated.
He had laughed.
“Then perhaps she is preparing to claim myself Ħuzūrs himself.”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr looked at him gravely.
“I won’t be surprised if Ammījān claims it.”
“Nonsense.” Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī thundered at his ever best friend.
“I haven’t told you something myself, Muħammad.”
Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī laughed ironically.
“Don’t tell me that your Ammī is also doing the same thing with you too.”
“No, but someone else is performing that role for her.”
“What?” Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī was startled.
“My wife.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said gravely.
Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī smiled,
“I see. That’s why your services are obtained?”
“Keep it to yourself.”
“Tell me one thing if you know.”
“There is a rumor that Ammījān is planning to claim she is…”
“Is it right?”
“If it is, it’s part of the amendment of time cycles.”
“You don’t know?”
“I’m told only what she thinks necessary.”
It was not good to whisper in the presence of his daughters.
“Ten thousand robots per human is the current ratio.”
“All of them are lady robots ?”
“Allah, isn’t it costly in itself, ‘Ten thousand robots per human’, I mean?”
On the surface, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was just a grand looking Turk Musalmān woman in her early thirties.
An extremely beautiful face with long, black hair and distinguishable Arabian features inherited from her Ammī.
She always wore lose fitting clothing that hid her figure pretty well.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā considered it shameful to show herself in public, a result of years of Orthodox Muslim school teaching.
She had remained almost a virgin until her late twenties when she married her husband.
And even with him, her idea of sex was that of a quick missionary-style fuck.
She would never allow him to go down on her, or even entertain the thought of sucking him.
Although she did desire to cum herself during sex.
But usually had her husband rub her clit with his fingers to bring her to climax before having him mount her for a quick session.
In addition to being conservative, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was also quite a snob.
Her family had done well for themselves over the years, and being rich, she did not have to worry about finances ever.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā always considered herself a step above those around her.
So it was easy for her to quit working once her husband completed his residency and became a staff surgeon in a local hospital.
Unfortunately, his job required him to attend several medical conferences each year, often leaving Jamīlah Bū Pāshā home alone.
Little did she know that one of his reasons for going alone was to often find someone to pleasure him as a gay since he couldn’t declare his being a gay at home.
On Friday morning, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā dropped her husband off at the airport.
He was flying to Kansas to spend the weekend with his Ammī, then off to Washington for a two-day conference.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was planning to leave early the next morning for a couple nights away at a hot springs spa herself and would no doubt be out of contact with her husband until Monday night.
On her way home from the airport Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had the misfortune of getting a flat tire.
She managed to reach a service station.
She waltzed into the service bay and requested that someone replace her tire.
The attendant politely took her information but when he didn’t move quickly enough for her, she became demanding to the point of being insulting.
Moreover her attitude showed.
Still, the 18-year old Hindu attendant took down her information, then slowly, very slowly, had her tire repaired and replaced back onto the vehicle.
Instead of being grateful, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā called the manager to task for hiring such a dim-witted idiot to work there, paid her bill, and left.
Shankar Mahā Rudr did not like the way he was treated by Jamīlah Bū Pāshā one bit.
He detested arrogant Musalmān women like her.
And hearing her complaints to his manager had made things worse.
Shankar Mahā Rudr stewed over the incident the rest of the day.
Then decided that he wanted to get revenge.
Shankar Mahā Rudr had overheard Jamīlah Bū Pāshā on her cell phone while she was waiting.
He heard her mention that her husband was out of town and that she was going to be out of town as well.
Shankar Mahā Rudr went to the file cabinet and pulled out the day’s tickets, finding hers he took note of the address.
A pretty nice neighborhood a little more than sixty-miles from where he lived.
Shankar Mahā Rudr guessed that she probably only drove this far from home when she needed to go to the airport.
Thinking that her home would be empty for the weekend, Shankar Mahā Rudr decided to call a few of his Hindu buddies and pay the house a visit.
He thought that when she returned home to find the place ransacked and robbed that she would have a taste of what it felt like to be abused by someone.
Shankar Mahā Rudr was under educated as most of the Musalmīn were.
Shankar Mahā Rudr had discovered his real Hindu father was a multi-millionaire.
That night Shankar Mahā Rudr picked up three of his friends: Mohan Giridhar and Vikram Āditý, two cousins, ages 19 and 18, who had grown up with Shankar Mahā Rudr, and Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī, a tall Hindu kid who had dropped out of high school and spent a couple years wandering from town to town before settling down in their town.
At 21, Mohan Giridhar was the oldest of the group.
They drove the sixty miles to where Jamīlah Bū Pāshā lived.
Passed through the neighborhood checking things out.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī had plenty of experience with breaking and entering and offered his best advice.
He was particularly pleased to see that the house they targeted was pretty secluded with a nice long driveway.
Thick woods blocked one entire side from view from the street.
They pulled into the driveway, cut the lights and engine, and coasted down behind the trees and rolled off into the grass beside the garage where their car would be hidden from view.
There were no lights on in the house, or on any of the other nearby homes.
Not surprising for 2:00 am.
To avoid any possible alarm system they climbed a tree in the back yard and hopped onto the awning over the patio.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī found the bathroom window and used a small, thin piece of metal to slip it through the crack and unlock the window.
Then the four Hindu men slid easily into the bathroom and began creeping down the hall.
Finding the bedroom first, they walked in.
Since this was on the backside of the house, they didn’t worry about light and flicked the switch.
To their shock and surprise, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was asleep in the bed.
When the light came on, she awoke with a start.
She jumped from the bed screaming.
She was dressed in a thin nightgown that did little to hide her extremely beautiful Turk Musalmān assets.
Her ample Turk Musalmān breast swayed under the material and her blue panties were clearly visible.
“Oh fuck!” Shankar Mahā Rudr yelled out upon their discovery.
Both Junior and Vikram Āditý stood frozen in near panic.
If not for Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī Jamīlah Bū Pāshā probably would have been able to rush out the door and perhaps make it to safety.
But the big Hindu man, acting with the instinct of one who had perhaps been in such situations before, jumped before her, wrapping his thick Hindu arms around her body and dove onto the bed pinning her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body beneath him.
When Jamīlah Bū Pāshā tried to scream again Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī shoved a pillow over her face.
“Shit! Someone get me some fucking rope or something!” Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī yelled, trying to hold the kicking Turk Musalmān woman in place.
“Where?” Shankar Mahā Rudr replied.
“How the fuck do I know!” Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī yelled back. “Look around!”
The three Hindu men ran out of the room tossing open closets and other things.
Finally returning with some power cords, a short piece of string and some duct tape.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī sat on Jamīlah Bū Pāshā’s stomach while the other guys grabbed her hands and feet.
First, he needed to shut her up.
Reaching back he spotted her panties and with a quick, violent tug, ripped them off her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body and shoved them into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth before using the duct tape to cover her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
Successfully muffling her cries for help.
Then he rolled her over and used one of the cords and some more duct tape to secure her arms behind her back.
After tying her up, the four Hindu men stood over the bed.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā lay on the bed in fear.
She realized that, her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy was exposed.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā closed her legs tightly trying to keep it hidden.
But there was little she could do about covering her thick black bush.
Fortunately, for Shankar Mahā Rudr she did not recognize him at all.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had long ago chosen to not look those who were beneath her in the face unless necessary, and therefore had no remembrance of what the kid at the service station looked like.
“Damn, this Turk Musalmān Bitch has a fine body on her.” Vikram Āditý commented.
Shankar Mahā Rudr couldn’t help but agree.
He did not remember her looking this good this morning.
But then again, she wasn’t half-naked then either.
Then Shankar Mahā Rudr got an even better idea.
“Let’s really show Miss Rich-Extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Bitch a lesson tonight.” He suggested as he leaned forward and took her left Turk Musalmān breast into his hand.
When Jamīlah Bū Pāshā began to roll away in protest Shankar Mahā Rudr squeezed it tightly causing her to gasp in pain.
“Yeah, I think we should all fuck the hell out of her.” Mohan Giridhar suggested.
He got no disagreement from the other three.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā began kicking frantically as they all jumped on the bed and began groping her.
She screamed against the gag as they tore her nightgown from her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was pinned down by them as they probed her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body.
She felt an Uncut Hindu Penis shove up into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy and began thrashing about.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had allowed a couple Hindu boys to fuck her in high school.
But she told others that only her husband’s hands had explored her in full detail.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā reacted in horror to the experience going on now.
She was being sexually manhandled by four Hindu street punks, and one of them was Karosiā!
“I want her first.” Shankar Mahā Rudr yelled as he stood and removed his clothes.
Had it not been for the gag Jamīlah Bū Pāshā’s shrieks might have been heard throughout the neighborhood when she saw the young man climbing between her legs with his stiff 8-inch Hindu erection.
He dropped between her legs and began kissing her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy.
She felt him sucking and licking her awfully lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Clit and could feel it enlarge.
Then she felt her own juices begin flowing freely and she reddened from head to toe.
Once satisfied that she was wet enough Shankar Mahā Rudr climbed up.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā tried to resist but was unable to move as he lowered himself onto her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body.
Her arms were pinned beneath her back and Shankar Mahā Rudr was firmly between her extremely beautiful Musalmān legs.
She felt his Uncut Hindu Cock rub between her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy lips, easily gaining entrance against her will.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā cried out in a mixture of fear, anger and humiliation as this Hindu punk become only the second person to put his Uncut Hindu Cock into her.
Shankar Mahā Rudr began ramming his Uncut Hindu Cock into her at will.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā could not believe this was happening to her.
She had always guarded her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body.
Saved herself for marriage and committed herself to one man.
Shankar Mahā Rudr cared little for how Jamīlah Bū Pāshā might have felt.
All he knew was that he was getting revenge on this stuck-up extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Bitch for all the women like her who have treated him like that.
Shankar Mahā Rudr knew that after tonight she would think twice before looking down on anyone else.
Shankar Mahā Rudr continued pounding her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy mercilessly, waiting for his moment of release.
Soon he could feel his Hindu balls tightening and knew that he would soon be cumming into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy.
“Jamīlah Bū Pāshā, Shankar Mahā Rudr gonna cum in you now!” He cried out.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā tried to scream in protest.
She couldn’t bear the thought of him releasing his Hindu sperm into her.
What if she would get pregnant?
She couldn’t let that happen.
But there was nothing she could do.
Shooting deepest inside her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy.
Never letting up until he could feel his Uncut Hindu Dick softening inside her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy.
“Come on, man. Let me at her.” Mohan Giridhar demanded as Shankar Mahā Rudr took his time dismounting Jamīlah Bū Pāshā.
As soon as he was up, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā tried to roll off the bed in hopes of escape only to be grabbed by Mohan Giridhar and forced back onto her back.
“You ain’t going anywhere, baby.” He said as he began unbuckling his pants.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā looked on in fear as his Hindu manhood came into view.
While not quite as long as Shankar Mahā Rudr’s, Mohan Giridhar was noticeably thicker.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā gasped as she felt him filling her insides.
Mohan Giridhar buried his Uncut Hindu Cock into her, ramming her repeatedly with his Hindu tool.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was disgusted by the homely Hindu man grunting and slobbering over her.
As Mohan Giridhar pounded her, his cousin got down and began sucking her right nipple.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā fought back tears as she found herself raped for the second time in minutes.
Worse, she could feel her insides betraying her.
To her horror, she discovered that something inside her was beginning to tingle with a pleasure she never felt before.
But he was enjoying it too much and felt the Hindu cum rising in his Uncut Hindu Cock, ready to be released.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā saw the Hindu man above her begin to clench his jaw and knew that he was about ready to cum.
She tried thrusting her hips hoping to throw him off her before he came but there was no use.
As Mohan Giridhar got off her and his cousin climbed on Jamīlah Bū Pāshā saw Shankar Mahā Rudr and Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī standing at the end of the room watching.
One of them had apparently visited the kitchen and had brought up several of her husband’s beers and a bottle of bourbon and the two men were drinking and toasting Mohan Giridhar’s orgasm.
As Vikram Āditý dropped his pants Jamīlah Bū Pāshā tried to prepare herself mentally for her third rape of the night.
Vikram Āditý was smaller and thinner than both of the other men who had already fucked her.
More like her husband was.
Vikram Āditý sank his Hindu shaft into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy and began fucking rapidly.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā knew that at this rate he wouldn’t last long but got little relief from that fact.
For as soon as he began, she felt her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy beginning to tremble with extreme delight.
She cursed under her breath and silently begged her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body not to respond.
But her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy refused to listen.
Her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy spasmed as the first wave or her orgasm shot through her.
She blushed in shame as she realized that the man above her knew that she was coming on his Uncut Hindu Cock.
“Shit, guys, she likes it!” He called out.
The thrill of having her climax under him was the final stimulation for Vikram Āditý and he released his own Hindu wad into Jamīlah Bū Pāshā’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān pussy.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā lay still as Vikram Āditý got off her.
She had just orgasmed to only the second man in her life.
And now she had given up on fighting.
At least she had until she saw Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī drop his pants and come stand before her.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had hoped that the Hindu man would not take a turn with her.
And when she saw his massive 12-inch Uncut Hindu Cock springing forth from his pants she panicked.
She knew that she couldn’t take something that large in her without receiving permanent damage.
Her scream could be heard through her gag as Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī mounted her.
He shoved his thick Hindu tool into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy.
Making sure to let her see every inch sink slowly in.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā’s eyes bulged as he crammed the rest into her.
Her extremely ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān insides were wracked with pain as Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī rammed the last inch into her and began fucking the poor Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān woman .
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā could not believe that he could have fit inside her.
In addition to his Hindu length, he must have been twice as thick as Mohan Giridhar.
As he fucked her she feared that her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy would tear apart.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī was enjoying shoving every inch into the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān woman.
He leaned forward and began kissing her cheeks as he slammed home with every Hindu thrust.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā turned her head from side to side trying to avoid his Hindu mouth.
Then her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān eyes bulged as she caught herself beginning to climax again.
She had never cum twice in one night before.
Her breath became short and quick as the giant Uncut Hindu Cock in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy came closer and closer to putting her over the edge.
Then her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy exploded, her lips squeezed the Hindu shaft around her as she began moaning with surprise delight in what was her strongest orgasm ever.
As she was still cumming she felt the Hindu man above her begin to twinge.
Her orgasm ended as she realized that he was going to cum inside her.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī thrust harder as he began filling Jamīlah Bū Pāshā with his Hindu cum.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had just been raped by four Hindu men in her own bedroom.
Worse, she had somehow allowed herself to have two orgasms.
She thought nothing could be worse until she opened her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān eyes and saw Shankar Mahā Rudr standing there with her camcorder getting a close-up shot of her well-fucked pussy lips.
She had no idea when they had found it, but now they were using it to film her humiliation.
“Let’s have some more fun here.” Shankar Mahā Rudr said.
“Maybe we should leave.” Vikram Āditý said. “Before we get caught here.”
“Fuck that,” Shankar Mahā Rudr said. “This extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Bitch is alone all weekend and everyone thinks she’s out of town. So who’s going to come by and catch us?”
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā could have died.
She had thought this was the end of it.
But somehow these guys knew that she was supposed to leave town in the morning.
Somehow these guys knew her.
And worse, they weren’t planning on leaving yet.
“Ungag her.” Shankar Mahā Rudr ordered.
Mohan Giridhar and Vikram Āditý ripped the duct tape off of Jamīlah Bū Pāshā’s mouth and removed her panties.
She caught her first easy breath since her ordeal began.
“You want us to leave you alone, lady?” Shankar Mahā Rudr asked her.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā nodded her head ‘yes’.
“Fine,” he said. “But first we need some assurance that you won’t call the cops on us.”
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā would agree to anything to get rid of them.
But she had no intention of calling the police.
She couldn’t live with the thought of her neighbors knowing that she had been brutally fucked by these Hindu punks who were useless in their own country India and came here to get their sustenance.
“All you have to do is suck each of our Uncut Hindu Cocks while we film you. Then if you tell anyone this tape will be sent to everyone on your street.”
“Fuck you!” Jamīlah Bū Pāshā shouted.
She had already suffered enough; there was no way she was going to let any man stick a filthy Uncut Hindu Cock in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
“Very well then. We’ll stay here and fuck you all weekend. And we’re going to make you suck our Uncut Hindu Dicks anyway.” Shankar Mahā Rudr told her.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā cringed.
She knew that he would make good on his promise.
She realized that she was going to have to suck their Uncut Hindu Cocks one way or the other.
And she knew that they would repeatedly rape her and probably video tape the whole ordeal as well.
She swallowed hard and agreed to do it.
Mohan Giridhar untied her hands and sat on the side of her bed.
“On your knees, extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Bitch.” He ordered.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā dropped down to her knees and found herself facing his hard Uncut Hindu Cock.
She gulped hard as Mohan Giridhar grabbed her head and pulled it closer to him.
She refused to open her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth at first.
Mohan Giridhar banged his Uncut Hindu Cock against her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān face.
She could see the camera focused on her and gave up, opening her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth and allowing the first Uncut Hindu Cock in her life to enter her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
She closed her lips and began slowly moving her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth along his Hindu shaft.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā kept her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān eyes closed afraid that she would begin crying if she opened them.
She wasn’t prepared for his Hindu orgasm.
Mohan Giridhar’s first Hindu blast caught her in the back of the throat.
The warm, salty, thick Hindu fluid filled her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
She tried to pull away but Mohan Giridhar held her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female head tight, spewing his Hindu cum into her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female throat.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was forced to swallow to keep from choking on the Hindu sperm that continued to spout into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
When Mohan Giridhar finally pulled out, she leaned over and began coughing; only barely avoiding vomiting on the floor.
“My turn.” Shankar Mahā Rudr said as he handed the still rolling camera to Mohan Giridhar. “Make sure not to get any of our faces.”
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā opened her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth and took him in and began sucking again. “Oh yeah, bet you really like having a poor Uncut Hindu Cock in that rich Turk Musalmān woman mouth of yours.” He taunted.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā couldn’t believe she was doing this.
But she decided to do her best to get these scoundrels to cum in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth and leave.
She began working Shankar Mahā Rudr’s Uncut Hindu Cock as best she could, ignoring his degrading comments as she was forced to service him.
She could feel him beginning to cum but didn’t realize that he was going to slam forward.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā felt the head of his Uncut Hindu Cock hit the back of her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female throat just as his Hindu seed began filling her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
She quickly swallowed as he spewed into her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female throat.
He shot more than Mohan Giridhar had and some of it dribbled out of the corners of her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
Shankar Mahā Rudr pulled out and Vikram Āditý stood over her.
She quickly began sucking her third Uncut Hindu Cock of the night.
But Vikram Āditý took her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female head and began fucking her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth much like he had fucked her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy.
Then just as he was ready to cum he pulled out and blasted her in the face with a thick stream of cum.
She saw the camera catching every moment of her humiliation as Vikram Āditý coated her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān face.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī then took her and made her lay on her back with her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female head hanging over the edge of the bed.
She opened her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth and took him into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth, wondering how she was going to open wide enough to take him.
Then he thrust forward, going a little further with each Hindu thrust.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā gagged as his Uncut Hindu Cockhead began entering her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female throat.
She feared for her life, thinking that she would suffocate with his Uncut Hindu Cock buried in her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female throat.
But Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī just continued to fuck her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth until he had most of his Hindu shaft in her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female throat.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had heard the phrase ‘deep throat’ but never really understood it until now.
The Hindu man’s balls slapped her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān eyes as he fucked her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female throat, playing with her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān tits as he did so.
She felt his Uncut Hindu Cock swelling even thicker, then felt his Hindu sperm shooting down her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female throat.
Finally, her ordeal was over.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā lay on the bed, her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female throat sore from her latest ordeal.
Drying cum on her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān face and her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy still leaking Hindu cum mixed with her own Turk Musalmān female cum.
Her only response was laughter.
“Bu-but, you said…”
“We’re having too much fun to leave now.” Shankar Mahā Rudr told her as he downed the last of the beers.
With a demented look on his face, he walked over to the side of the bed.
“Make sure to get a close-up of this.” He instructed as he took his limp Uncut Hindu Dick and held it toward their captive. “Get up and suck me again.” He ordered.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā reluctantly rose and took his flaccid Uncut Hindu Cock into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth expecting to be forced to suck him off again.
But that wasn’t what Shankar Mahā Rudr had in mind.
Instead he grabbed both sides of her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female head firmly and let loose with a stream of piss into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā gagged and tried to open her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth to expel the vile contents but Shankar Mahā Rudr ordered her to swallow or take all of their piss all night long.
She swallowed as much as she could but still had much of it running down her chin.
When he finished he pulled out and shot the last couple of squirts directly into her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān face.
With his Uncut Hindu Cock growing hard once more, he forced Jamīlah Bū Pāshā to kneel on the bed.
“I think I’ll try that tight little stuck-up Turk Musalmān female ass now.” He said.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā cried out and tried to move but Mohan Giridhar and Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī grabbed her and held her in place.
Shankar Mahā Rudr took his Uncut Hindu Cock and shoved it into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy a few times getting it wet, then pulled out and pressed his Uncut Hindu Cockhead against her tiny puckered opening.
“Allah Oh God, please no!” Jamīlah Bū Pāshā begged. “I’ve never done that!”
Her pleading only excited Shankar Mahā Rudr further.
She tried to resist but his Uncut Hindu Cock gradually broke through.
She cried out as he began gaining entrance.
She thrashed wildly as Shankar Mahā Rudr began humping her ass with delight. Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had never in her life imagined anything so vile and degrading happening to her like this. Shankar Mahā Rudr rode her tremendously gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female ass relentlessly, reaching forward to pull and tug at her firm Turk Musalmān breast while he fucked.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā buried her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān face into the pillow, more out of shame than anything else.
The pain was subsiding somewhat but she still felt extreme discomfort.
Shankar Mahā Rudr’s Hindu balls slapped against her upturned tremendously lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Cunt as he drove every Hindu inch into her tremendously gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female ass hole.
Then he unleashed his Hindu load deepest into her tremendously gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female ass.
When he pulled out Jamīlah Bū Pāshā felt as if her tremendously gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female ass was going to explode.
“Let’s sandwich her.” Jamīlah Bū Pāshā heard one of the others say.
She had lost the ability to resist after being assfucked and presented no resistance as Mohan Giridhar and Vikram Āditý grabbed her and moved her into the center of the bed.
Vikram Āditý forced her to straddle him and sit on his Uncut Hindu Cock.
Then she was held in place as Mohan Giridhar began forcing his Hindu meat into her tremendously lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Butt.
With Mohan Giridhar’s added Hindu thickness came renewed pain as he began fucking her tremendously gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female ass hole.
His Hindu thrust caused her to begin riding Vikram Āditý’s Uncut Hindu Cock.
She could feel the two Hindu prongs rubbing together with only a thin membrane of skin separating them.
While Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was being fucked Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī came around the side of the bed and thrust his massive Hindu tool into her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān face .
Forcing her to take him into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
All the while being videotaped.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā felt Vikram Āditý bucking his hips beneath her and realized that he was blowing his Hindu load into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy.
Then she felt Mohan Giridhar emptying himself into her tremendously gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female asshole as well just as Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī began spewing into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī pulled out of her first.
Then Mohan Giridhar rose up, still with his Uncut Hindu Cock in her tremendously gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female ass he lifted her off his cousin then forced her back onto her knees.
“Damn, now I got to piss.” He said.
Then he pinned her down and began flooding her tremendously gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female ass hole with his piss.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā screamed as the warm fluid filled her extremely ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān insides, remaining corked by Mohan Giridhar’s thick Uncut Hindu Cock.
When he pulled out the contents of her tremendously gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female ass flushed out all over her legs and the bed.
She lay on the bed shivering in disgust, then saw Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī stroking himself.
“Time for me to split that asshole apart.” He said.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā rolled to the side.
“Allah Oh God no! Please, not my ass, Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī. You can fuck my pussy but please don’t put that horse-Uncut Hindu Cock up my ass.”
“Beg me for it and maybe I will.” He replied smiling.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā didn’t want to be fucked by him.
But she knew that she couldn’t take being fucked in the ass by someone as large as Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī was.
“Will you ride my big Uncut Hindu Cock?” He asked her.
“Yes, I want to ride it.” She continued. Knowing full well that her request was being recorded and would cast doubt on any attempts to claim she was raped.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī got on the bed and instructed Jamīlah Bū Pāshā to ride him.
She got on his lap and began shoving his Hindu monster Uncut Hindu Dick into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy.
She couldn’t believe that she was taking him in so easily.
Then she began riding for all she was worth.
She wanted to satisfy this Hindu man so that he wouldn’t want to fuck her tremendously gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female ass.
Shankar Mahā Rudr came around and dropped his Uncut Hindu Cock into her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān face and Jamīlah Bū Pāshā began sucking him as well.
Then she felt her extremely ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān insides stirring again.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī’s huge Uncut Hindu Cock as rubbing her awfully lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Clit and g-spot with every tremendous Hindu stroke.
She realized that she was going to have another orgasm.
She began riding wildly as her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body gave in to the desire of cumming atop the Uncut Hindu Cock inside her.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā began sucking Shankar Mahā Rudr’s Uncut Hindu Cock hungrily as she climaxed.
When her orgasm subsided, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā realized that the Uncut Hindu Cock inside her was only getting harder.
She had a long way to go and knew that she would come again and again before he did.
But she no longer cared.
She was being fulfilled in ways that she had never dreamed of.
When Shankar Mahā Rudr came in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā begged for someone else to take his place.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had another orgasm, then another before Mohan Giridhar spilled out in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
Then she could feel Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī’s Uncut Hindu Cock coming to fruition.
When Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī exploded inside her, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā met him with her most powerful orgasm yet.
Then Jamīlah Bū Pāshā collapsed on the bed.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā awoke the next day to find herself alone.
She quickly showered, then cleaned the bedroom.
Her tremendously gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female ass hole and pussy ached but she couldn’t believe that she had enjoyed herself so much.
She skipped the mini-vacation, hoping that her visitors would show once more.
But none did.
When her husband returned home, he found a changed wife.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā took him into the bedroom and did things that she had never permitted before.
He didn’t know what happened to change his wife.
In truth, he didn’t care either.
At least not until several months later.
During his wife’s eighth month of her pregnancy someone at the hospital showed him a web site containing graphic pictures of a woman looking much like his wife being taken in every hole by four Hindu men whose faces had been blocked out.
He tried to deny it, but knew that this had to be Jamīlah Bū Pāshā.
When confronted she claimed that someone must have dubbed her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān face onto someone else’s body.
The pictures circulated throughout the neighborhood, and many bought Jamīlah Bū Pāshā’s story.
Especially since few believed that, she could have such a nice body.
But her husband knew better.
Then Jamīlah Bū Pāshā gave birth, to a beautiful Indian Hindu baby son.
Her husband filed for divorce and Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was forced to return to work.
Her reputation ruined.
She no longer looked down on Indian Hindus.
In fact, she began finding pleasure with many blue-collar Hindu men from then on.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā herself investigated and found the four Hindu scoundrels Shankar Mahā Rudr, Mohan Giridhar, Vikram Āditý and Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī.
They were smiling at her.
“What do you want?” Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī smiled triumphantly.
“What do you think, you Hindu scoundrels?” Jamīlah Bū Pāshā smiled too, “Now everyone knows what we five are.”
“So?” Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī smiled cunningly.
“Let’s live together.”
“Whaaaaaaaaaaat?” Shankar Mahā Rudr couldn’t believe Jamīlah Bū Pāshā.
“Can’t believe?” Jamīlah Bū Pāshā laughed.
“Well, you are a multi-millionaire. You are highly educated and we are under educated poor men.”
“I’ll teach you. You can handle my companies as directors. I’d guide you. But you all have to please me as you did.” Jamīlah Bū Pāshā smiled and winked at Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī, Shankar Mahā Rudr, Mohan Giridhar and Vikram Āditý.
“Hurrayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.” Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī yelled.
Shankar Mahā Rudr, Mohan Giridhar, and Vikram Āditý also yelled.
Then they, all the four plunged to Jamīlah Bū Pāshā.
They undressed Jamīlah Bū Pāshā.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā undressed all the four of them.
All the five were laughing now cheerfully.
“Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī into my Turk Musalmān Pussy, Shankar Mahā Rudr into my Turk Musalmān female ass, Mohan Giridhar into my Turk Musalmān female mouth and Vikram Āditý in my hand, okay?” Jamīlah Bū Pāshā announced.
“Okay.” Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī, Shankar Mahā Rudr, Mohan Giridhar, and Vikram Āditý too announced cheerfully and started their new joyful life with Jamīlah Bū Pāshā.
Yes, that was it.
They all the four were now Live in Relationship Partners of Jamīlah Bū Pāshā.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī was once more fucking Jamīlah Bū Pāshā.
That was the appropriate place Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had decided for Shankar Mahā Rudr’s Uncut Hindu Cock.
Mohan Giridhar enjoyed her blowjob more while Vikram Āditý had more pride in getting her masturbation on his Uncut Hindu Prick.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā didn’t tell them she knew now everything about them.
Her decision to join my bed had solved her every problem forever.
Sucking my Uncut Hindu Lund Jamīlah Bū Pāshā smiled,
“I could never imagine my own husband arranged it. My money has bought me more enemies than friends, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!”
“Jamīlah Bū Pāshā, he is a gay. He wanted to get rid of his husband’s responsibilities towards you.”
“Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī and Sidrah Aħmad say ‘of all the Uncut Hindu Pricks they have sucked ever, your Uncut Hindu Lund is the utmost tasty ever. Even your Hindu urine is the utmost tasty ever too.’ How right they are.”