Ammī, you toooo?
I walked to the edge of the water then set Al Åārifah Al Aslam down,
“You don’t think I’d actually throw my own Bahū Bégum in the water, did you?” I asked with a wry grin.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam breathed a deep sigh of relief and then smiled at me,
“You should have,” she grinned as she pushed me into the water.
I bellowed as I tumbled in the water and surfaced quickly, a big grin on my face.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam shrieked again as I popped out of the pool and started to chase after her.
She ran around the backyard before I scooped her up into my arms and carried her over to the pool.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam gave me the puppy dog look as she squirmed in my arms,
“You wouldn’t throw your dear little Bahū Bégum in the pool, would you?”
“My dear Bahū Bégum? No. My hot young Bahū Bégum… yes.”
And with that, I jumped into the pool while still holding Al Åārifah Al Aslam, letting her go as we hit the water.
I laughed as I came up for air.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam surfaced a Moment later.
She wiped her hair from her face and giggled as she splashed me.
We both splashed and played in the pool before we wound up in the shallow end.
I sat on the steps as I pulled Al Åārifah Al Aslam on top of me.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam straddled me in the water as we caught our breath.
“So you think I’m hot, do you?” she smiled.
“I do. Not exactly breaking news.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam grinded against me as she leaned into me,
“Well, there aren’t exactly a lot of men breaking down my door,” she breathed.
“You have to take the padlock off the front door first, Åārifah Aslam,” I replied.
“Are you telling me you want me to do that?” Al Åārifah Al Aslam asked.
I didn’t break eye contact with Al Åārifah Al Aslam as she stayed on my lap,
Al Åārifah Al Aslam grinned widely,
“I didn’t think so.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam moaned as she kissed me, I held her tightly and kissed her with heat and passion.
Her arms went around my neck as she grinded against my growing Hindu hard-on, our lips locked in a hot taboo embrace.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam and I kissed like teenagers as we pressed against each other in the pool, my tongue slipping inside Al Åārifah Al Aslam as I succumbed to my lust.
“Mmmmmm, Åārifah Aslam,” I moaned as I broke our kiss.
“Allah! Oh my God,” Al Åārifah Al Aslam moaned, “That was so hot. I’ve wanted that for so long.”
“Me too,” I said.
We started to kiss again only to stop just as quickly, “what’s wrong?” I asked.
“I want this so bad, but I can’t. It’s wrong. I’m your Bahū Bégum,” she said.
“It’s ok, Åārifah Aslam, I too want this now. I too want you. You aren’t only that wants me.” I replied.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam extricated herself from me,
“It is wrong. We can’t do this,” she said as she pulled away from me and ran inside.
I watched Al Åārifah Al Aslam run inside and went after her.
I went upstairs and heard her crying in her room, “Åārifah Aslam?” I called as I knocked on the door.
“Not now Durgesh. It’s wrong, we can’t do this, I’m your Bahū Bégum,” she cried.
Durgesh turned the knob and went inside,
“We need to talk.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam looked at me,
“Durgesh! Please! I’m embarrassed enough!”
I walked over to the en suite bathroom to grab a towel and some tissues.
I came back into the bedroom, and wrapped the towel around Al Åārifah Al Aslam.
And handed her a tissue.
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Åārifah Aslam,” I said as I sat down beside her.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam sighed deeply as she leaned against me, “I’m such a fool.”
I rubbed Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s arms through the towel, “Don’t be silly Åārifah Aslam, you’re perfect.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam looked at me and started to talk when I stopped her,
“Let me speak,” I said.
“A few weeks ago when I was fixing your laptop I found your online profile,” I started as Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s eyes bulged in surprise.
“It was wrong but I checked it out and I’ve checked your profile every day since. I checked it so often I had to get my own … and then I couldn’t help myself and started chatting with you online. I’m the one you’ve been talking to, Åārifah Aslam. So if there’s something wrong with you there’s something wrong with me and we can be wrong together,” I said.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam was shocked as I revealed all,
“You mean…” she started.
“Yup,” I said. “We’ve been sharing our secrets, swapping pictures… nurturing our mutual desire.”
“You planned this?” Al Åārifah Al Aslam asked.
I shook my head,
“No. It just… happened. It was you. Deep down I guess I’ve always had you,” I said.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled for the first time,
“Me? So, you really want to…”
“I want to do whatever you want, Åārifah Aslam. But if you’re asking me what I really want, I want to fuck you, Al Åārifah Al Aslam.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s nipples instantly responded to my words,
“You want to fuck me?”
“Say it again,” she said.
“I want to fuck you, Åārifah Aslam,” I repeated.
“Again,” she said.
“I want to fuck you, Åārifah Aslam,” I smiled.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam grinned a lusty grin as she stood up and faced me.
She tossed her towel aside.
She reached behind her back and undid her top, letting it fall to the floor as her gorgeous breasts spilled free, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī female Musalmān lust and desire now fuelling her actions.
I stared at Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s chest in wonderment, not believing this was actually happening.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled as I gawked at her, “mmmmmm Åārifah Aslam wants to fuck her big boy…” she moaned.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam and I kissed on the bed.
And it turned her on even more.
I fell back on the bed.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam stayed on top of me as we kissed hungrily.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam broke the kiss and looked down at me, “Did you really mean all the things you wrote?” she asked.
“Every single thing.”
I nodded again,
“Of course, you think I have lots of dick pics sitting around?”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam giggled,
“No, but it looked too good to be true,” she said as she kissed softly down my body until she reached my swim trunks.
“Mmmmmm you weren’t lying,” she said as she licked her lips.
Her smile grew even larger when I groaned softly as she stroked my Hindu shaft.
I smiled as I looked at Al Åārifah Al Aslam,
“They really do, but what I really want to know is if Al Åārifah Al Aslam likes it.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam had a mischievous glint in her eye as she stroked me slowly once more before her red crimson Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips approached my Hindu shaft and sucked me into her warm wet mouth.
“Ooohhhhh fuck, yes, Åārifah Aslam.”
I watched as Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s beautiful young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān head bobbed up and down my Uncut Hindu Cock as she expertly swallowed it, her lips gliding up and down my Hindu shaft.
My cock slipped from Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s mouth and she started to stroke me again,
“Does that answer your question?” Al Åārifah Al Aslam asked.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled as she kissed and stroked my hard cock,
“Mmmm that will happen soon enough,” she teased.
The sound of Al Åārifah Al Aslam blowing me, while I moaned, filled the room and turned us both on.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam started to stroke my cock as she sucked on my balls, her hand moving up and down my wet cock.
“Tell Åārifah Aslam what you’d do to her…” she moaned.
I smiled as I moved my hips, thrusting slowly against Al Åārifah Al Aslam’s hand.
“I’m going to fuck you in every room of this house. I’m going to fuck you in my bed; I’m going to fuck you in this bed and fuck you better than Muħammad Ħabīb ever did. I’m going to fuck you while we eat breakfast, I’m going to bend you over the couch and fuck you in the family room. I’m going to fuck you in the shower, in the grass out back, on the washing machine and everywhere in between,” I continued.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam moaned loudly as I went on and on all the places, I would fuck her, she took my Uncut Hindu Cock back in her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth as my shaft throbbed.
Al Navīdah Al Vasīm smiled at her daughter.
Despite her later thirties, she still didn’t understand what the present åālmīn, what the present day MULTIVERSE was.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam was still living in her mental hypocritical universe.
No, it wasn’t.
Even the Christians were so, even the Jews were so, even the Pārsīs were so and even the Hindus were so.
“The Pseudo Musalmīn are actually a military power, Åārifah,” Al Navīdah Al Vasīm said fucking me vehemently, “Islamic State of Iraq and Syria is its worst product. When Yazīd malåūn revived the pre Islamic military power of Årab people, he deliberately did it to snatch away its spiritual power Ħuzūrs gave it. He deliberately snatched away its oxygen, Taħannus. If Taħannus were still an integral part of Islam, as it was in the days of Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam, Yazīd malåūn couldn’t have converted almost the entire Musalmīn into military power.”
“I can’t understand the reason you are preaching me true Islam, Ammī.” Al Åārifah Al Aslam said curtly, “If you think you can justify in this way what you are doing with my father in law, you are quite mistaken.”
Al Navīdah Al Vasīm smiled,
“That’s why there isn’t any problem that you fuck Durgesh.”
She laughed lightly.
“Previously I wondered, Ammī, why you extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān houseladies are crazy to invite other Musalmān houseladies who don’t fuck Durgesh, to fuck Durgesh either under this pretext or that.”
Al Navīdah Al Vasīm never lost her patience.
She always kept her mind cool when she argued about anything with someone.
She too laughed lightly.
“Now you are wiser?”
“You couldn’t control yourselves.” Al Åārifah Al Aslam smiled contemptuously, “Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her ever lier, her ever Durgesh obsessed, young Musalmān lady brigade, spread the lie that Durgesh is the ever best sex specialist, he fucks best. You tried to experience it and lost your chastity, your sanctity, to Durgesh in the process, as well as your Īmān too.”
“Īmān?” her Ammī, Al Navīdah Al Vasīm laughed open heartedly fucking me more and more vehemently.
“Yes!” Al Åārifah Al Aslam said contemptuously, “Īmān. That’s more precious than anything is. As your passion to fuck Durgesh fulfilled, you foolish yet beautiful Musalmān houseladies realize what the utmost precious thing you have lost forever. Your conscience reproaches you. To compensate it, you want the rest of the beautiful Musalmān houseladies also fuck Durgesh themselves, so that you can explain to your conscience that it’s nothing abnormal at all. It’s absolutely normal.”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam never even imagined then, what she was doing now, she would herself do some day.*
Al Åārifah Al Aslam hadn’t been this hot since she and Muħammad Ħabīb went to our last swingers party years ago and none of the cock’s she’d sucked over the years made her as hot as mine.
I grunted and groaned loudly as Al Åārifah Al Aslam continued her taboo assault on my Hindu shaft until I couldn’t help myself anymore.
“Here it comes,” I grunted through gritted teeth.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam moaned as she sucked me, her eyes bulging when I finally released and came hard down her Musalmān throat.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam sucked harder on my sprouting Uncut Hindu Prick as my Hindu sperm coated her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān tongue and throat.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam moaned as she swallowed my Hindu load, she hadn’t swallowed with Muħammad Ħabīb even, but she just had to taste me.
Her beautiful Musalmān lady friends claimed it was the tastiest thing they swallowed ever.
She licked her lips as she lifted from my shaft, a long line of spit connected my Uncut Hindu Cock to her beautiful red crimson Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips and she eagerly kissed my Uncut Hindu Cock head to clean it up.
I smiled as I looked up at Al Åārifah Al Aslam,
Yes, it was a lie.
But Al Åārifah Al Aslam needed it.
And I never claimed to be Harishchandr, neither I ever wanted to be.
“Mmmm well Åārifah Aslam knows how to take care of her Hindu protector…”
I pulled Al Åārifah Al Aslam up to me and kissed her again.
We kissed hungrily on the bed as I rolled Al Åārifah Al Aslam onto her back.
She felt my hand snake down to her soaked bikini bottoms and slip under them.
I smiled when I felt how wet Al Åārifah Al Aslam was and Al Åārifah Al Aslam moaned when I started to feel her up.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam looked at me,
I slowly undid her bikini bottoms and tossed them away,
“Well, we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?” I smirked.
Al Åārifah Al Aslam watched as I moved between her legs and spread them wide.
It was a long kiss itself.
I caused her to moan,
“Mmmm Allah, God, Durgesh, kiss Åārifah Aslam’s pussy…”
Al Åārifah Al Aslam started to pinch and play with her nipples as I kissed her there.
“Mmmm Master fucker Hindu, Åārifah Aslam is going to fuck you so good…,” she groaned.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd enjoyed me more than I enjoyed her.
It was natural however.
She requested me for a date, not I.
Her Musalmān husband had left her charging she had sexual relationship with me.
Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd made me responsible for her future.
“Sure,” I said gravely, “but I’m sixty five years old already. You are only twenty eight years old. I’m entire thirty seven years older than you. Would you yourself love to be a wife of a Hindu they call Anant Muslimātchod Hindu and who is thirty seven years older than you?”
Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd smiled cunningly.
“Do I have any choice?”
“Yes,” I said gravely, “We can be friends only. We can keep platonic relationship between us. You would still be my responsibility, nevertheless, not as my one more wife, as my one more respected Musalmān lady friend only.”
Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd smiled.
“With how many beautiful Musalmān houseladies are you maintaining platonic relationship now?”
I looked at her silently.
“You are right. Not with many of them. Sooner or later they need sex eventually and compel me to provide it to them.”
Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd looked at me ironically.
“You want to say you aren’t responsible for turning the friendship into a sexual relationship, they themselves are?”
“I want to say nothing.” I said gravely, “Use your own judgment.”
We had our usual make out session and as was usually the case, I came home with a painfully aching hard-on, even after fucking Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd as much as I needed. Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd ultimately requested she couldn’t take me anymore. I didn’t need a woman only, to quench my sexual appetite. I need a whole army of beautiful Musalmān houseladies. No single young Musalmān lady can satisfy me sexually ever. I need a military of them.
It was a Friday night.
I had my weekend ahead.
Saturday and Sunday.
Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd could not take me even the whole Friday night.
She took me six or seven hours only.
“Allah! Måshā’Allah! SubħānAllah!” Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd said completely exhausted, “I can’t take your ever ravenous ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund anymore into my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot. I thought perhaps my oral and anal services to you could help me. But even they aren’t enough to satisfy you sexually. I surrender.”
“It’s our first night, Al Tāhirah Al Waħīd.”
“Certainly not.” I kept smiling, “I’m hyper sexual while you are a normal woman. You are right. No single woman can satisfy me sexually ever. I really need a whole army of beautiful Musalmān houseladies to quench my ever abnormal sexual appetite.”*
I knew Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm was working late.
Therefore, when I got home I went straight to the bathroom.
I didn’t know the bathroom was already occupied.
How the hell had I known?
In her haste to relieve herself, Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm had forgotten to close and lock the bathroom door.
She was entirely nude.
Perhaps Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm needed some relief quick.
She picked it up and placed it around her finger.
Its smell was intoxicating for her.
She started fingering herself again.
Naked visions of Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm were flowing through my mind, when suddenly, I heard a loud gasp.
Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm had seen me standing in the bathroom doorway, with her hand over her beautiful mouth.
Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm ran from the bathroom immediately.
She didn’t even have the courage enough to dress herself.
Nevertheless, Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm didn’t run away from there without doing any mischief to me.
While running away through the bathroom door, she squeezed my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund boldly grabbing it entirely unashamed of herself and her entire nudity.
However, in my own eyes it wasn’t my Hindu masculine weakness at all.
Instead, it was my Hindu masculine strength.
Yes, I was proud of it.
Never ashamed of.
I’ve kept countless beautiful Musalmān houseladies alive, from committing suicide even.
They needed sex while they were being preached instead.
I confidently followed her trying to explain.
It was necessary.
She had quarreled with her husband,
Muħammad Åārif was stunned,
“Durgesh is not only my friend, Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm. He is Live in relationship partner of my sisters too. My sisters still live with me. We, entire seven sisters and one brother, me, inherit Abbū’s business. They are seven in numbers. How the hell can I keep their Live in relationship partner away from their own house? Their ownership on the multi-story mansion is seven times more than mine even.”
I told Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm I understood what Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm was doing, but she should have at least had the decency to lock the door.
“Who the hell is here except you and me?”
I wasn’t stunned.
“What do you mean?” I tried to discipline her.
In her bedroom, Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm was still nude.
“Don’t you understand even now what I need immensely?” Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm was a total rebel now.
“I need you and your still erect ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund is declaring it too needs my female services.”
“Dress yourself first.”
“I tried to adjust with your unnatural Hindu lifestyle.”
“I want to talk with you.”
“Put some clothes on first.”
“I’m more comfortable in this way.” Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm smiled cunningly.
“Well, I’m not!”
Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm laughed.
“Why not? You aren’t an anti nudism yourself. 24x7x365 you fuck us beautiful Musalmān houseladies. Certainly you are habitual of seeing our beautiful nude female Musalmān bodies almost always and even enjoy us sexually. What is new to you? I wonder.”*
I had a note on the fridge from Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl saying she would be out.
I figured I would lay out by the pool and get high.
I had snuck weed out of my Bahū Bégum, Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl’s, room before – she sometimes had a bag lying in plain sight but when I went into her bedroom it was as clean as a hound’s tooth.
I looked around her room a bit.
Nothing on the night stand, nothing in her closet, nothing in her bathroom.
“Ok, what about her TV stand?”
I opened the double doors to her bedroom TV cabinet and found nothing but the TV.
I did find a key to the movie cabinet down below and figured I would give it a try.
I took the key and opened the cabinet and saw my prize!
It was a nice big bag of magically delicious weed!
There were some pre-rolled joints in the bag too so I helped myself and went to open the bag when I noticed something else in the cabinet.
Along with Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl’s collection of sappy love-story flicks, corny comedies, and Disney Flicks, there were some adult DVDs!!
There was also a stack of erotic magazines and a black velvet bag that contained an assortment of dildos, vibrators, and lube.
Most of them were my own Sex videos with her own Ammī, Al Suraiyā Al Tāhir, and with her mother in law, Al Jāsiyah Al Saåūd.
There were three magazines which particularly surprised me because they were girl on girl flicks.
“Well well! … So Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl too likes beautiful Musalmān chicks as much as I do!” I thought.
I went through her DVDs and found more of the same.
Lots of straight guy, I, /Musalmān chick stuff with fucking and sucking and that sort but then I also saw she had a few lesbo/Sapphic oriented flicks as well as some movies with names like “Home-styled Swingers” with everything from young Musalmān ladies masturbating to me banging two Musalmān chicks at a time.
I was shocked but I was also now ferociously horny.
Was she interested in me sexually?
I never knew.
I grabbed a DVD from the cabinet and a joint.
I then went to Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl’s computer by the bed and popped the DVD in the drive.
I almost lit my joint then and there, but figured “Stupid! – She will smell it! – you almost got yourself busted!”
I just entered in her password.
She made the mistake of writing it down in her address book and I found it a while back the last time I looked for weed in her room.
I popped my Bahū Bégum, Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl’s, screen and I was going to hit play on her desktop movie viewer icon when I saw that her browser history was open on the side of her web-explorer.
Curious, I looked at her history and saw that she had been taking in a steady diet of porn viewing online. Some it was straight, some girl/girl but some of it was…well a shock for me- INCEST MOVIES!
“Really?” I thought, “Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl was viewing that? Damn it!!” I spent about a half hour looking through Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl’s smut and then played the DVD in drive and saw that it was full of my plowing beautiful Musalmān chicks doggy-style, beautiful Musalmān chicks doing three-ways, and some nut-busting anal scenes, complete with one chick and her twin sister doing ass to mouth as I plowed both of their glorious Musalmān assholes!!
Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl was interested in me sexually.
But he should have told me the evidences of it too.
“Al Saåīdah Al Jalāl is crazy for you sexually, Durgesh.” Muħammad Qāsim said furiously, “She is responsible to make my son leave my house.”
“Muħammad Qāsim,” I said curtly, “Muħammad Sultān isn’t actually your son, you know. You…”
“You want to claim his fatherhood now?” Muħammad Qāsim was suddenly horrified.
Muħammad Qāsim smiled cunningly.
I watched him harshly.
“Well, are you regretting it now?”
“We Hindus believe that a Bhābhī is as pious as mother herself.”
“Yet, right from your very childhood, you are fucking the beautiful Musalmān houseladies you called Ammīs, Bājīs, sisters, Bhābhījāns, you fuck my Ammi, don’t you?’
“Your Abbū requested me to fuck your Ammī.”
I smiled bitterly.
“Muħammad Qāsim, you have thirteen elder sisters to you. Don’t you?”
“That’s not what I’m telling you, damnfool.” I said bitterly, “Your Grandmother, Bégum Al Tihārat Al Saåīd, was compelling your Abbū,
Muħammad Åbdullah, to divorce your Ammī, Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an, because she couldn’t provide her a grandson.”
“Therefore you fucked my Ammī and fathered me?” Muħammad Qāsim asked me sarcastically.
“You don’t believe it?”
“I can’t believe that an only seven years old boy could fuck my Ammī who was already the mother of my three sisters. Even if I believe that my Ammī gave birth to my eldest sister when she was sixteen years old only.”
“Why not? Because my Ammī should have been nineteen when she mothered my second sister, should have been twenty two when she mothered my third elder sister. You mean when you were only seven years old you fucked my twenty five years old Ammī and fathered me? Nonsense!”
“Your entire calculation is quite wrong, my child.” Muħammad Qāsim’s still immensely beautiful Ammī, Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an, contradicted her son suddenly.
We didn’t know when she had entered there.
“Ammījān,” Muħammad Qāsim stood up in her honor.
“Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an,” I smiled, “darling, your damnfool son, Muħammad Qāsim, thinks I didn’t father him actually.”
“Muħammad Qāsim,” Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an said, “You think I’m a cougar that loved to have sex with your young friend Durgesh to satisfy my sexual appetite.”
“In those days, our parents married their daughters when they were not even born. I was married to Muħammad Åbdullah when I was only nine years old. Your eldest sister was born when I was thirteen only.”
“I can’t believe it,” Muħammad Qāsim smiled unbelieving it.
Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an smiled sarcastically, “your second elder sister was born when I was sixteen. Your third elder sister was born when I was eighteen. Durgesh didn’t fuck me when I was twenty five. He fucked me when I was twenty years old only. At my twenty two you were born.”
Muħammad Qāsim laughed.
“How old are you now, Ammījān?”
Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an smiled.
“What do you think?”
Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an laughed.
“You are yourself fifty, Muħammad Qāsim. I couldn’t be your Ammī when I was ten years old only.”
“You mean you are Seventy Two, Ammī?” Muħammad Qāsim was wide eyed, “I can’t believe it. You look hardly Sixty only.”
“Thanks for flattering me, my boy.”
“I’m not flattering you, Ammī. Wallah, you don’t look more than Sixty anyhow.”
“Muħammad Qāsim, Durgesh is having sex with me since fifty two years. He was thirteen then and I was twenty when we consummated our first sex.”
Muħammad Qāsim was crestfallen.
“You mean Durgesh is really my father?”
“Durgesh is really your father, my child.” Al Taqaddus Al Qur’an smiled, “Most of your friends have the same father, yet the different mothers. Durgesh was already fucking most of my Musalmān ladyfriends.”*
I said curtly,
“Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm, you are teasing me.”
“Certainly not. If you feel so, you can fuck me here and now, as much as you damn please!”
“That’s what you really want.”
“So what? I’m a fully grown up Musalmān young lady of twenty eight years old already. I can have sex with anyone I damn please! Can’t I?”
“You want me to fuck you here and now.”
“Sure, if you agree with me, undress yourself and come to me. We both are adults. We can have sex legally whenever we need it.”
“You are a PhD, Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm,”
“You must behave more sophisticated.”
Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm winked at me.
“Your ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund is betraying your entire sophistication. Come on. I myself invite you.”
She suddenly jumped up, came to me and undressed me quickly so fast I couldn’t even protest her,
My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-five years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was immediately in her dazzlingly beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm was sucking me desperately caring damn whether I liked it, or not.
I was dumbfounded.
I never thought Al Nāsirah Al Qayyūm was so crazy to have sex with me.
Similar Stories from Durgesh
1. Bahoo Begum
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Jihad Al Vaqār glanced about the spacious office once more.
Was Al Nādir Al Ghāzī shrewd enough to play all these games?
Was it possible he deliberately gave her his media empire?
His father, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, allowed him to have it for a trial year.
Now, his former wife, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb was claiming it was her property.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār sighed.
In Delhi, Aap had gotten a landslide victory even on BJP.
INC was finished there altogether.
It couldn’t get even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.
What did it mean?
The Anti- Hindu forces were winning again?
Was it the beginning of a Counter Revolution?
Against the ever first Psychological Revolution in the entire history of humankind?
It might be.
The Original ever first Psychological Revolution started with the demand of Midterm 2012.
It took two years to build up the required reality and to bring it up to the reality then.
And now the Counter Revolution?
Well, it isn’t so easy.
If they think they can do it so easily, they were living in fools’ paradise.
The most we need are anal rheostats to destroy the anti human desires.
They are also there.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār directed her sight toward her desk calendar.
She was ready to get going.
She had only one trial year.
“Be right in, Al Jihad Al Vaqār. We have everything set.”
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān was carrying a handful of folders.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār motioned her friends and lieutenants to the rattan chairs across from her desk.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār felt comfortable with them.
Both of them were as creative as Al Jihad Al Vaqār herself was.
They were aggressive, daring, and filled with energy.
These were Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s confidants and her loyalists, and from now on, they would be properly rewarded
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān indicated to the projector.
There was a running information,
“HVSI Times manages its subscription always on the top.”
Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān smiled at her, “I thought we should too adopt the procedure.”
“HVSI Times represents the revolutionaries that successfully ended the Scam era.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said, “We haven’t enough capital to compete with HVSI, No one has.”
“Sure, but it’s today. When HVSI started HVSI Times they didn’t have this capital.”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled.
HVSI Times was the dream newspaper.
It has survived the biggest threat of news TV channels.
It somehow always maintained to give something new to its readers the news TV channels couldn’t provide.
As soon as Al Jihad Al Vaqār got the media empire in settlement, she visited HVSI Times herself personally.
It was a multi-story building.
None knew how many stories it had.
They said it was an endless building.
No one believed it.
How a building could be endless.
It was certainly a publicity strategy.
It was the tallest building nevertheless.
The heart of the structure, the one that pumped activity into all the other stories was its Seventh floor.
Most of it was given over to the HVSI Times newsroom.
Its one portion was reserved for the publisher’s suite.
It consisted of the publisher’s main office, the office for my personal secretary and receptionist, a conference and electronic media room, two offices for the advertising director and her assistant, and glassed in cubicles for the managing editor and the assistant managing editor.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never changed anything.
He surrendered it to Al Jihad Al Vaqār as he did find it.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār, the temporary heir to the suite and to the building had made few personnel changes.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār retired Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī’s elderly female secretary on a generous pension and replaced her with her own secretary, Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ, a smart, brisk, thirtyish young woman with short-cropped dark hair and horn rimmed glasses.
Her ambitions were the driving force that would never let her stop anywhere.
Again, the difference in the intensity of their ambitions was the decisive factor.
Al Åāyeshah Al Sheikħ lacked it.
She stopped somewhat before getting resources she was after, while Al Jihad Al Vaqār didn’t deliberately.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār had more patience in the matter.
“Let’s start with the two of you. I’ve been giving it some thought. You will both be answerable only to me. Outside of general orders, everything I tell you will be kept in strictest confidence. Al Kħālidah Al Jibrān, this is a bigger job, much bigger than Special Projects. Your work will be greatly expanded, naturally, accordingly.”*
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās straddled me with her beautiful face towards me.
She was enjoying my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund into her comparatively immensely young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot once again.
I knew it would never be a once only phenomenon.
Once with Durgesh
All the rest is trash
The more aged I grew the crazier they were for me.
“I don’t want to burn my bridges, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said fucking my ever stout ever pleasure giving ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund wildly, “And why should I? Al Nādir Al Ghāzī has played with my beautiful body, even if in his own peculiar way. I couldn’t help that. My entire body was at his discretion. If instead of fucking me, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī enjoyed tongue fucking me more it wasn’t my fault. I am not responsible for it. He has to pay for my time I spent with him. It was precious.”
“Sure,” I agreed with Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās squeezing her excellent exquisite boobs and buttocks both.
My ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund was harder and harder now into her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with her each aggressive thrust.
She was kissing me wildly.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was squeezing my entire ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund around its shaft.
“I’m really entitled to this alimony if you should warn Al Nādir Al Ghāzī that HVS Law Internationals were going to ask for an increase if he dragged me into court again. It would keep Al Nādir Al Ghāzī from making a move.”
I laughed cunningly.
“Done, however if all the alimony is going to cease in a few months, why not…”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said bitterly.
I smiled coldly.
“And you want me to engineer that deal for you. Is that it?”
“Well?” I asked.
“You think I’m terribly scheming and designing.”
“You are cautious. You are protecting your interests.”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kept fucking me wildly.
“Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to fix things so marrying him won’t entail a financial sacrifice on my part. Do you think I’m a gold digger?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās kissed me gratefully as my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot entirely.
“Thank you,” she thanked me once again for letting her fuck me.
“Are you deceiving Priyavrat Chaturvedī for marrying him?”
“Certainly not,” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās said earnestly, “Priyavrat Chaturvedī knows each and everything of my previous marriages and my recent relationship with you too. I never play dirty with the persons who never play dirty with me.”
“Yet Priyavrat Chaturvedī wants to marry you?”
Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās smiled triumphantly.
“What do you think? Am I not that much beautiful?”
“You are too beautiful. Priyavrat Chaturvedī can do anything for you.”
“What do you mean?” I smiled cunningly.
“You won’t do anything for me, even if I keep fucking you?” Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās looked into my naughty eyes.
I winked at her.
“If you keep fucking me, Al Saåīdah Al Åbbās, I can do anything for you, myself, if it isn’t immoral and illegal.”
“Even if I’d be married to Priyavrat Chaturvedī?”
“That’s Priyavrat Chaturvedī’s problem, not mine.” I said gravely.*
There was a note on his table.
His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, had called him.
Everything has changed fast.
Narendr Modi was delivering fast what he had promised to the one hundred twenty five crore Indians.
His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī, was worried as the other Congresspersons were.
INC couldn’t win even a single seat in 2015 Assembly Elections.
It was the absolute change in Time Dimension too.
It was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.
“I know. There was a note to the effect on my table.”
“You don’t understand Infinite BrāhmKalp, Muħammad Shakīl.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your Kħālāzād cousin, Ambikā Tripāŧhī, is no more interested in me.”
Muħammad Shakīl was startled.
He entered His father, Rām Shankar Chaturvedī’s Private Chamber.*
He never knew why.
Rām Shankar Chaturvedī was a Congressperson.
Imāmzādī Al Åārifah Al Muħammad retorted.
“You fool; do you want to make me responsible for what my Abbū did?”
“Certainly not, Ammī, certainly not.” Priyavrat Chaturvedī agreed, “Nevertheless, you can’t blame Pitājī too. He loved you very much. Nānājān was trying his best to convert Pitājī to Islam. Pitājī couldn’t infuriate Hindus by converting himself. He would have lost Hindu votes for himself and INC. INC never permitted him.”*
Despite his increasing age, his eyesight was still very good.
It wasn’t any rare thing now however.
They said it was Infinite BrāhmKalp now.
“The Bachhalyās were always the best about publicity. They always use superstitions of the people to spread white lies favorable to them.”
He straightened his cuffs, leaned back and said normally,
“Sit down, Priyavrat.”
“As always Ammī has reported you with heavy bias, Pitājī.”
“I doubted that myself. Yet, son, she is right in one thing. You should marry now.”
“What’s wrong in it if it happens?”
“Durgesh is immensely against Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act everywhere. Yet the entire Brāhmañ Brahmkanyā Brahmāñī Creations are passing it one by one. Durgesh can’t oppose Democracy. Therefore it doesn’t make any difference whether Durgesh is against it or not.”
He touched an inconspicuous contact switch and a section of the wall grew transparent.
“You are blundering in the same way, my son, the Brāhmañs of the ever first Satyug did.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Her Three Generations
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I went out later, wandering from our city centre hotel down towards the Coliseum, before walking back through the roman Forum.
We stopped often, soaking up the atmosphere, imagining the roar of the crowds hundreds of years before, imagining the Senators meeting, talking, and plotting.
It was an unseasonably warm day.
We found a café and sat outside to eat Pizza, drink coffee and watch the world go by.
We took a horse drawn carriage to the pantheon, and marvelled at the beauty of the paintings and sculptures inside.
We walked around the city, soaking up the atmosphere and history, walking hand in hand, enjoying being together.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās still couldn’t believe she was too my wife now despite the fact that she was only Just Eighteen Just Adult when she first succeeded in having my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-four years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund into her then Just Eighteen Just Adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
She was jealous of her Nānī Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, when she deliberately watched her having sex with me.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās could never understand why her Nānī Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, revolted against her Nānā Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan and started to live openly with his ever greatest enemy, the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, Durgesh.
“Kħālājān, I hate Nānī Ammī immensely.” She told Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan expressly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly.
“I myself hate her, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās. But we can’t do anything.”
“Now I understand why the Musalmīn turn to be terrorists.” Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās said furiously, “The Hindus always manage to have sex with our ever sacred Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān womankind, either this way or that way.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched her elder sister’s daughter calculatingly.
She couldn’t be more than thirteen now.
At the most, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās could be fourteen only.
He hated wild animal sex basically.
It wasn’t a human act for him ever.
Yet, Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, needed it very much.
Her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, actually never had another option.
Not even any other Hindu male.
Not perhaps even Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Moreover, Shankar Mahāpralayankar was an ardent anti Muslim Hindu, even if Nafīsah Salmān could forget that Shankar Mahāpralayankar was a criminal that was immensely capable to dodge the law and order of every country anywhere.
He was Shahanshāh Jalāluddīn Muħammad Akbar actually.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar never did it.
He never needed to.
As it began to get dark, we returned to the hotel, to the suite we now shared.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband spotted Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās‘s bikini and teased her, asking if she had managed to get a swim that morning.
“Come on,” she retorted, grabbing her bikini, “Let’s go now.”
“I can think of other things to do,” I told her.
She stripped off, standing naked before me.
Her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body was firm and beautiful.
However, with a laugh, she wriggled away from me and pulled her bikini on quickly.
She reached into a draw and threw me my trunks.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband got changed quickly.
We both pulled on the robes the hotel provided before heading out towards the lifts.
Minutes later Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I were at the indoor pool.
Dropping her gown on a sun bed, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stepped towards the water and dived in gracefully.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband followed her more sedately, and began to swim a few lengths, always looking out for Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās.
She swam well, passing me a few times as her years of practice began to show.
After swimming a couple of dozen lengths, the Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband stopped at the shallow end and rested, my back against the edge of the pool.
We were alone now, the last of the other swimmers having just left.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stopped next to me, both of us were glancing across at where we had met the night before.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband moved to stand in front of her.
Reaching out, I stepped closer.
My hands were on her hips.
We kissed softly.
Our Ashvinātam bodies were very close.
Despite the fact that I was sixty-five years old now, I never appeared my age.
Everyone thought I was anywhere between twenty-eight and thirty-five only.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās was nineteen now.
We were fucking each other now for a complete year already.
As we parted, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās smiled.
“It looks different in daylight,” she murmured, thinking of the night before.
“I try not to think about,” The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband told her.
“Why not,” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“Because this happens,” I told, taking her hand and pressing it against the hard Hindu bulge in my trunks.
“Swim then,” she laughed, dodging past me and swimming away, teasing me.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband swam after her, but she had disappeared over to the other side of the pool.
I went after her, missing her time and again.
Each time the Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband got closer, I reached out to her, touching her, and then she was gone.
She touched my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund in passing, teasing me, but always evading me.
Eventually I caught her, laughing, in the corner.
I pulled Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās to me, kissing her hard, feeling her firm extremely beautiful female Musalmān young body against me, her erect nipples pressing into my chest, my hard ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund against her.
She pressed herself against me, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot sliding up and down the ridge of my Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund through my swimming trunks.
She wriggled free, and dropped below the surface of the water.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hands tugged at my trunks, pulling my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund free.
It sprang up, released from its restraints, unaffected by the cold water.
Her beautiful quivering red crimson ardent Musalmān lips were forming a seal around me. Her tongue lapped at my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund head, buried in her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
She took my balls in one hand, her other hand on my buttocks, holding me.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband groaned as this seemed to last for ages, but in reality it was only seconds before she shot to the surface, gasping for breath.
With barely a glance around, we moved to the shallow part of the pool, my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund jutting out in front of me.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband lifted her onto the edge of the pool, my lips locking onto hers as we held each other tight.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās grabbed my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund, peeling the skin back down my shaft, pulling my swollen ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund head towards her.
Dragging her bikini bottoms to one side, she exposed her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot to me.
I caught a quick glimpse of her wet, wanton lips and then I was inside her.
I pushed forward as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās wrapped her beautiful nude Musalmān legs around me, pulling tight as I drove my thick Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund deep inside Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s young Musalmān body.
As we fucked, the Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband tugged at the strings of her bikini top, pulling it away from her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body, freeing her full exquisite young Musalmān breasts.
Her nipples were like pebbles pressing into my chest as we kissed, as we fucked.
Her beautiful nude Musalmān legs tightened around me, pulling me deeper and deeper inside her as I fucked her faster and faster.
She leant back; her arms behind her, her exquisite young Musalmān breasts thrust upwards, her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot pushed forward towards me.
It lasted we never knew for how long.
I always fucked her as if I was a wild animal that had gone mad.
She had always to acknowledge her defeat.
She never found her Kħālājān, now thirty-three years old, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, ever winning over me.
The ever wonderful man was defeating her three generations, including herself.
His sexual lust to fuck beautiful Musalmān houseladies of any age whatsoever was incredible.
Durgesh could just fuck them endlessly with ever increasing manly vigor even.
Ultimately, we were cumming, crying out as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot moulded itself tighter around my Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund.
The waves of pleasure crashed through her, as spurts of my warm, thick Hindu cum filled her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
We clung together, gasping to breathe, then laughing at our release, then controlling ourselves as we remembered where we were.
We dressed ultimately.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband was pulling my trunks up while Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās re-tied her top and straightened her bottoms.
We swam back to the far end of the pool, before climbing out and grabbing some towels from the pile left by the hotel.
Pulling our robes back on, we headed back to our room, eager to be alone again.*
It was late evening when we left the hotel.
We were heading towards the hard Rock Café, a venue we always enjoyed.
Fortunately, we were seated within half an hour of arriving, and were soon pondering the menu while she was sipping on ice-cold beers and I a juice.
“Hi, I’m Al Rābiyah Al Faisal. I’m your waitress for the evening.”
We both looked up from the menus and said “Hello” to our server.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was tall and slender, in her mid twenties.
Her accented English was almost perfect.
Her dark hair was tied back, her white blouse clinging to her pert Musalmān body, her green skirt short and tight around her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass.
The Just Eighteen Just Adult extremely beautiful Musalmān young lady’s sixty-five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu husband cried out as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās kicked me on the shins, an amused grin on her face as she watched me watching Al Rābiyah Al Faisal.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was back shortly to take our orders.
She stood next to me, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder as we smiled.
When we had ordered, she ran her hand lightly down my arm and thanked us, before sashaying away.
Her hips were swinging.
Her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass was rocking from side to side in her tight skirt.
Throughout the evening, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was friendly and attentive, always touching my arm and running her hand down it when we were finished chatting.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās took all of this in with amusement, and not with even a little jealousy.
However, moments later it was I teasing her as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal brought Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s dessert.
She rested her hand on Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s arm as she put the ice cream in front of her, then ran her hand down her arm and squeezed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hand gently.
“Enjoy!” she told her.
“In which case,” I told Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās as Al Rābiyah Al Faisal walked away, “She must fancy you as well.”
Nevertheless, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās wasn’t listening – she was far too busy watching Al Rābiyah Al Faisal walking away, her eyes locked on her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass, her tongue flicking over her suddenly dry lips.
I took all of this in, my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund was hardening as I watched my Just Eighteen Just Adult young Musalmān lady, my lover, looking at the waitress.
Suddenly I remembered the way Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās had looked at other girls before, some of the comments she had made, especially about the beautiful dancer we had seen at the moulin Rouge when we were in Paris – and I began to wonder…
When we were finished, I paid the bill and left the beautiful Al Rābiyah Al Faisal an extravagant tip.
She thanked me, leaning over to kiss me on my lips naughtily, before hugging Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās.
I watched them.
As we left, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal squeezed our arms one last time, then told us that she had enjoyed meeting us, and that she finished at eleven if we fancied a drink.
Then, with a delicious, inviting smile, she was gone.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I stared at each other, not quite sure what to make of what Al Rābiyah Al Faisal had said.
Nevertheless, both our bodies reacted to those words, to her look.
We didn’t mention Al Rābiyah Al Faisal as we walked through Rome, heading for the Tivoli fountain, wanting to see it lit up at night.
We stood by the fountains, enjoying the sound of the water, the sight of the beautiful statues and carvings.
I gave Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās a coin and told her to throw it over her shoulder into the fountain and make a wish.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās did, closing her eyes and making her wish as I watched her.
“Well,” I asked, “What did you wish for?”
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās hesitated for a moment then told me, her voice husky and her eyes bright.
“I wished we could …… make it back to the café before eleven.”
I stared at her, my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund growing hard as I took in her words, the expression on her face.
I glanced at my watch, then grabbed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hand and led her back the way we had come.*
We made it just in time, but then felt uncertain as we watched Al Rābiyah Al Faisal appear from the restaurant with some other waitresses.
We stood watching her, hesitating, not sure what to do when Al Rābiyah Al Faisal turned and saw us.
Her face lit up with that delicious smile again.
she quickly said goodbye to the others before walking to meet Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and me.
We both watched her walking those dozen yards.
Her long coat was undone, falling open as she walked.
She was wearing the same clothes as before, but this time our eyes were on her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, taut against her blouse, her nipples dark and promising, and on her long legs.
She appeared from beneath her coat with each step, her skirt rising high up on her stocking clad thighs.
“You made it,” she greeted us, stepping between us, turning and looping her arms through ours.
“Where shall we go,” she continued, hardly drawing breath, “Lots of places are closing now … How about your hotel? Does it have a bar? Is it far?”
I smiled and said that it wasn’t far, and then led the way.
We chatted as we walked, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s cheery banter easing any uncertainty Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I might have had, although neither of us thought about where this might lead.
It only took us fifteen minutes or so to get back to the hotel, but as soon as we walked into reception, we were hit by the noise of a huge party going on.
The bar was packed, as were the lounges around reception.
I looked around for somewhere quieter.
“How about our room?” Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās asked, her voice trembling slightly, “It’s big enough …. Is that okay with you Al Rābiyah Al Faisal?”
“That’s great …. Let’s use room service to get a drink; it’ll be quicker than hanging around here.”
Almost in a daze, still unsure of what was happening; Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās led the way to the lift.
Minutes later, we were back in our suite, and I was on the phone to room service ordering a bottle of champagne.
I dropped the phone back on its rest and turned back to Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and Al Rābiyah Al Faisal to tell them that the champagne was on its way.
Nevertheless, I was suddenly too cautious to speak as I took in the sight before me.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and Al Rābiyah Al Faisal stood close together.
Their exquisite young Musalmān breasts were touching, their hips pushing forward against each other, their mouths locked together.
They parted as they sensed I was looking at them.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās came to me and kissed me softly.
I could taste Al Rābiyah Al Faisal on her as our tongues slipped over each other.
Then Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was next to me, her exquisite young Musalmān breasts pressing against my arm, firm and warm.
As soon as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s lips left my, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was kissing me, her agile Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān tongue flicking along my Hindu male lips before slipping deep into my Hindu mouth.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal led the way to the sofa in the sitting room part of the suite.
We all sank down, I in the middle, as we took turns to kiss, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and I, Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I.
Our hands found each other easily, touching, caressing.
We stopped only when we heard tapping on the door, and a call of “room service”.
I let the waiter into the room, noticing the looks both Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās gave me.
He put the champagne on the side, and left as soon as I had tipped him.
I poured their drinks, handing glasses to Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās before rejoining them.
They sipped their champagne.
We chatted, totally at ease, happy for the growing sexual tension to grow even more, for our need and desire to grow.
After what seemed like an age, I leant over Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and put my glass of juice down. I took hers from her and placed it next to mine before taking her in my arms.
I kissed her softly, my hands caressing her pert exquisite young Musalmān breasts through her blouse.
Slowly, I undid each of the buttons down the front of her blouse, conscious of Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās moving to kneel in front of us so that she could help.
As soon as the buttons were undone, I eased Al Rābiyah Al Faisal onto her back on the sofa.
I pulled her blouse open, gasping as I stared down at her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, at her dark nipples barely hidden by the lace of her cream bra.
I touched her lightly, my hands moving up her sides, then across to her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, to her hard nipples.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās was still kneeling on the floor beside us.
Reaching down between my hands, between Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s exquisite young Musalmān breasts, she gently undid the clasp at the front of the cream bra.
I slid my hands across her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, into the deep Musalmān valley between them, before slipping my Hindu hands under the edge of each cup, and then slowly back across her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, exposing them to our gaze.
I felt the firmness of Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s exquisite young Musalmān breasts under my hands, of her hard, puckered nipples.
As my hands reached her sides, leaving her exquisite young Musalmān breasts totally exposed, both Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās and I gasped as we took in their beauty.
I dipped my hand, taking Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s nipple in between my thumb and forefinger.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās leant over her, and Al Rābiyah Al Faisal moaned loudly as both her nipples were teased.
I ran my hand over her flat tummy, over her skirt.
I rubbed down the front of her panties, feeling her wetness, feeling her juices rushing from her.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās moved away from her breast, and the two girls kissed – soft, passionate kisses that set them all moaning.
As my hand reached inside Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s panties, Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stood up.
She moved away a little, so that Al Rābiyah Al Faisal and I could see her.
We watched as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās danced slowly, sensually, undoing the buttons down the front of her dress, before pushing the dress off her shoulders.
It fell to the ground as she ran her hands over her exquisite young Musalmān breasts, pinching her own nipples.
Now Al Rābiyah Al Faisal gasped as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās stood before them, naked apart from her thong.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s hands ran lower, until one was on her tummy, and one inside her underwear.
She turned around, and bent over to slip her thong off, pointing her firm Musalmān ass at us.
Her lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī luscious young superb Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was peeking out between her beautiful nude Musalmān legs.
She turned back towards us, and held out her hands.
“Let’s go to bed,” was all she said.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal reached her hands up to Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās, and stood up.
The girls fell naturally into each other’s arms, their naked exquisite young Musalmān breasts pressing together.
We kissed again.
My Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund was painfully hard.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal ran her hands down Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās’s back, down to her firm Musalmān ass.
I moved behind her, pushing her dark hair to one side so that I could kiss her neck.
I pulled her blouse and bra down her arms, leaving her topless.
As the girls carried on kissing, moaning softly as our tongues explored, I dropped to my knees, scattering kisses down Al Rābiyah Al Faisal’s slender back.
I unzipped her skirt, easing it down off her hips.
All she wore under it was a cream thong and her black hold up stockings.
Her rounded Musalmān buttocks were firm, creamy white against the rest of her.
I kissed each side of her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass gently, before easing her thong down.
I eased her stockings down as well, one at a time, leaving her naked.
Her moaning got louder as I ran my Uncut Hindu Lund between her pert Musalmān cheeks.
She pushed her gorgeous, glamorous, perfect, round, firm, luscious, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī young Musalmān ass out, exposing more of herself to me.
I teased her tight little hole with the tip of my Uncut Hindu Lund, holding her hips and pulling her to me.
I stood up and led these two naked, gorgeous Musalmān women to the bed.
The contrast between them was amazing.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal was more slender, darker.
Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās was more rounded, her exquisite young Musalmān breasts and hips fuller but still wonderfully firm, both of them incredibly sexy.
Once by the bed, they both turned to me.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal kissed me.
Our kiss was soft and gentle to start with, growing quickly in passion as our tongues came into play.
We stopped kissing briefly as Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās pulled my shirt over my head.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal immediately leant down, kissing and biting me.
Her hand reached for my ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund through the thin material of my trousers, squeezing it.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal dropped to her knees in front of me, still looking up at me.
I sensed Al Waħīdah Al Ǻbbās kneeling down behind me.
Their hands pulled my trousers, dragging them and my underwear over my hips, down my thighs and off.
My Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund sprung up, standing out rigid, pre cum dripping from the tip.
Al Rābiyah Al Faisal gasped as it pointed at her, her extremely lovely pink young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth automatically slipping over the tip, greedily sucking my Ever stout, ever miraculous, sixty-five years old, utmost experienced, unique, legendary, Uncut Hindu Lund head into her hungry extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Poor Al Nādir Al Ghāzī
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī stood on the porch of the Al Madīnah Hotel, looking out over the path that the moonlight made in the waters of the Pacific Ocean.
Āmnah Azhar stood beside him.
She was almost fed up of her ever abnormal husband, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
It was a matter of immense pride for Āmnah Azhar.
She needed normal lovemaking too very much.
Alas, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never tried to understand her needs.
“We’re embarking on a perpetual, continuous, honeymoon. Do you love me, darling?”
“Of course, although your tongue serve me more than your cut Musalmān noonī.”
“Hey, you teaser. You knew it before marrying me even, didn’t you? You said you love it. Proud of it, instead.”
“Sure, but I thought you were a normal man too.”
“What do you mean? I’m a bisexual, a gay?”
“I don’t know.” Āmnah Azhar teased her husband mischievously.
“Well,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī laughed, “I’m still proud of having your beautiful excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and Musalmān ass forever in my possession. I’ll die to keep them in my possession forever.”
“Thank you very much;” Āmnah Azhar cooed diplomatically, “I’m very proud of you that you lick both of them almost always. Yet, being a normal woman I need normal sex too.”
“How about my normal sex champion Hindu stepfather, Durgesh? Would you mind to have his unique utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund inside your ever craving Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot?”
Āmnah Azhar laughed.
“Now, you are teasing me,”
“Allah, certainly not! Fuck the ever sexiest Hindu old boy whenever you want to. He is ever crazy to fuck used beautiful Musalmān houseladies. He feels some sort of proud in it even that he satisfies the ravenous Musalmān houseladies sexually optimum their Musalmān husbands couldn’t.”
“Never, I’ve enjoyed you as much as I wanted to already. Now, let the Hindu damnfool satisfy himself using the remnant of us proud Musalmīn. That’s what Hindus love to enjoy. They lack the manly vigor that’s necessary to enjoy a virgin Musalmān Beauty.”
“Well, Durgesh enjoys the virgin Musalmān Beauties too in a very large number I think. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Seven Movements are adamant to have Durgesh the virgin Musalmān Beauties too as many as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Young Musalmān Lady Brigade could manage to.”
“Sweetheart, look at me. You keep looking out at the ocean.” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī complained less and begged more.
Until now, it had been clear to him that he didn’t have anything a beautiful woman would be interested in ever.
He deliberately engaged himself in acquiring millions.
He knew his millions could attract even the most beautiful women to him.
Of course, they would never be loyal to him.
Yet, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never needed the loyalty of beautiful women.
He knew very well that he wasn’t a normal man.
“How?” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī asked sarcastically.
“You are right,”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī wasn’t damnfool enough to oppose a philosophy that enhanced his self-confidence and supremacy on the rest of the humanity.
He never bothered about its truth or fallacy.
Why the hell should he?
Āmnah Azhar turned to him with a complacent, satisfied, indulgent, permissive smile.
“Say something,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said.
“You know what. Say ‘I love you’.”
“Of course I love you, even more than I love Durgesh.”
“What the hell!”
“That’s the sheer truth, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.” Āmnah Azhar said bitterly, “I love you more because I know Durgesh would never lick my Musalmān Cunt and Musalmān ass, no matter however much he loves them. You tongue fuck them. You finger fuck them if it’s needed for your tongue to probe them. Durgesh would only kiss them. However, you can’t fuck me with your cut Musalmān noonī in my vagina and ass, as Durgesh can. I need Durgesh for it.”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had, as if fallen, from seventh sky.
He never really meant it.
She wasn’t ashamed of it that she was his stepdaughter in law.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī controlled his rising anger.
How unashamed of her!
“Darling,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said, “why don’t you feel the romance? Why don’t you feel the charm of our surroundings? Here we are away from business. No one knows where we are. We are all alone, out here, standing on the brink…”
“I’m hungry,” Āmnah Azhar broke in.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī laughed.
“All right, I’ll feed you. Only I don’t feel that I want to share you with anyone tonight. Let’s have something served on our room.”
“Nonsense! It’s terrible down here. They don’t have the facilities for room service that they have in the bigger hotels, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī. Let’s go out and get a good hot steak with some shoestring potatoes and French fried onions. There’s a very nice restaurant back at the center of town. I noticed it when we came through. I’ve eaten there before.”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had to surrender now.
“Very well, if you want it that way. I had hoped we could have dinner on our private balcony, looking out over the water.”
“You are only an impotent, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, not a damnfool. Impotence creates sexual incapacity only, not stupidity ever. I’ve known so many terrorists, criminals and criminal minded Musalmīn. Almost all of them were suffering from cancer, AIDS, other incurable diseases and impotence, either complete or partial, psychological at least. Yet they were not damnfools.”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī couldn’t digest it.
Yet, he knew it was true.
He could not contradict Āmnah Azhar effectively.
He felt his face reddened out of immense shame, disgrace and helplessness.
“With the moisture creeping in and getting the wave out of my hair, we can enjoy our dinner on our private balcony looking out over the water?” Āmnah Azhar ridiculed Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, “There’s almost a fog.”
Āmnah Azhar ’s laughter was light and all but impatient.
“Come, come, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī. You are getting altogether too romantic. You aren’t thinking of me even a bit. It leaves me tremendously ravenous for your Hindu stepfather, Durgesh. You can’t provide his wonderful Uncut Hindu Lund to me here when all your kissing, licking and tongue fucking turns me crazy for Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund. Let’s have a cocktail and a steak. Shall we go now?”
“Okay, just as you say, Āmnah Azhar, darling. How about your hair? Shall we put the top of the car up?”
“Stupid, no! We’ll leave it down. I like it better that way. I’ll tie a scarf around my hair.”
They descended the stairs to the lobby, crossed the lobby to the parking lot where Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had left his big convertible.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī walked around the car, held the door open for his immensely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Āmnah Azhar , then walked all the way around the long hood to the door by the driver’s seat.
“I’m famished,” Āmnah Azhar said, “Please hurry.”
“Certainly not. It’s all right this way.”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī started the car.
The motor purred a smooth rhythm of easy power.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī backed the car out of the parking place.
He spun it around, made a perfunctory at the edge of the highway, waited for a break in traffic, then slipped the clutch back in.
The car shot ahead like an arrow, swept into a turn and gathered speed as it headed down the highway.
They drove to the café.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī parked his car, got out and hurried around behind the car to open the door on his beautiful wife’s side.
Isn’t he entire thirty-eight years older than she is?
Isn’t he old enough to be her own father himself?
Yet, Durgesh never looked his own age.
He always seemed to be anywhere between twenty-eight and thirty-five.
Never more than that.
But they claimed something more too.
She put her own hand lightly in it, jumped to the ground with a swirl of skirts.
Tires sounded a screaming protest as a motorist braked his big, heavy car to a sudden stop.
They turned around, and Āmnah Azhar regarded with awakening interest the medium sized man sliding out from behind the steering wheel of the convertible machine with its top up and striding across toward them.
“That’s right!” Āmnah Azhar laughed melodiously, “What a pleasant surprise. Isn’t it?”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī groaned.
It wasn’t good.
Allah, he should never have kidded her.
How the hell Al Nādir Al Ghāzī could stop it?
Once with Durgesh
All the rest is trash
I went toward them gravely.
“I’ve had the devil of a time finding you, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī. A twenty four hour search.”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī drew up with dignity.
“Darling, you’ve already seen my stepfather, Durgesh, I think.”
Āmnah Azhar smiled seductively.
I smiled at her acknowledging her respect to me and addressed Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
“I must see you alone, and at once.”
“The reason you had the devil of a time finding me, Dad,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said somewhat coldly, “is that I didn’t want to be found.”
“So I gathered.” I said more brutally, “Now if you don’t want to be told how stupid you’ve behaved in immensely important legal matters, in front of your own wife, you can excuse yourself from her for five minutes. Otherwise, I’d never mind in telling you in her very presence how stupidly you’ve spoiled everything legally. Damn you.”
“I’m not interested in business at the moment, Dad, please! Yet if you insist to say anything it can be said now and here.”
“Very well. When’s your stockholders’ meeting anyway?”
“Tomorrow at two o’clock in the afternoon. I shall be there, Dad. No doubt.”
“You have enough proxies to control that meeting?”*
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī groaned.
“Allah, if Ammī rushed you here being worried about it…”
“You have enough proxies to control that meeting?” I repeated my question gravely.
“Of course I have. Allah, Dad, this is not the time to talk business. Ammī is over worried always, I say. Your car is blocking traffic however…”
“Your wife has sent out a flock of proxies in her own name. Remember her initials are also A.J.A.V.”
“His former wife,” Āmnah Azhar smiled mockingly.
“There seems to be some question about that too,” I said coldly, “Get back in your car, you smart birds. You are going to Mexico.”
“I’m going to have a dry martini and a steak,” Āmnah Azhar said.
“We’re dining tête-à-tête,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī explained.
Āmnah Azhar smiled,
“Oh, come, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī. Let your ‘Dad’ join us. He can talk while we eat.”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī shook his head,
“I’m in no mood to discuss business tonight.”
I said curtly,
“Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb has sent out proxies made out in the name of A.J.A.V. Al Ghāzī, holder of the Certificate of Stock number 786. She may have enough proxies to give her complete control of the meeting.”
“But she can’t.” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said furiously, “I have my proxies.”
I laughed ironically,
“That were superseded by her later ones. She took good care to see that hers went out after yours had been returned. The proxies contain a clause that all prior proxies are revoked. You haven’t thought of it ever. Had you?”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was crestfallen.
“Allah, no, never. She will ruin me.”
“Well, she is not going to ruin my dinner,” Āmnah Azhar snapped.
“That’s not the end of it furthermore,” I smiled ironically, “in order to make certain that you won’t be at that stockholders’ meeting tomorrow, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb has gone to the district attorney’s office and sworn to a complaint charging you with an illegal marriage. They are trying to arrest you right now. Apparently Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb…”
“Dad, lillah, please, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī interrupted, “Don’t discuss that matter now!”
“That’s why I warned you earlier to excuse yourself for five minutes in private. You declined it without much thought.”
“I’m sorry. I underestimated your decision. I thought Ammī forced you to come here because she was over worried as usual. I’ll be damned.”
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī,” I said bitterly, “you never respected me because you thought I broke your Abbū’s home. You always refused to believe it was your Ammī’s decision to live in Relationship with me, not mine. I could not throw her out for she loved me. I’ve been scouring the state for you for the last twenty-four hours. I wasn’t doing that just for fun, understand?”
Āmnah Azhar bristled.
“What’s that about the illegality of our marriage, Durgesh?”*
I looked at her gravely.
“You may as well face the fact. Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, you may run away from business, yet there are other things you can’t run away from. This is an issue you’re going to have to face and face fast.”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī looked uncomfortably at me.
“I’ll give the facts to you straight from the shoulder.” I said profoundly, “There’s all sorts of doubt about the validity of your marriage. In all probability, Al Jalāl Al Vasīm Al Wahāb is the only one who has any real claim to being Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s wife.”
“I thought she had.” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī groaned.
“Thought!” Āmnah Azhar exclaimed, “Why, of all the…”
“Just a minute,” I told them curtly, “Raising your voice isn’t going to help matters any, neither it is a place for recriminations. I’m going to move my car. I suggest that you follow me. I may be able to help you.”
“How?” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī asked.
“Let’s go to your hotel. You can get a bite to eat there, if you have to have it before you start for Mexico. Get your bags packed, throw them in the car and get started for the border.”
“Border?” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī asked.
“You were divorced in Mexico.” I said.
“Your Mexican divorcé may not be recognized in California, here. Your Mexican marriage would be valid only in the event that the divorcé was valid. But in Mexico, since you have a Mexican divorcé and a legal marriage thereafter, you are husband and wife.”
There was a moment of silence.
Then, Āmnah Azhar said,
“Well, don’t stand there like a dumbbell, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī. Can’t you realize what us beautiful Musalmān houseladies’ Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā is saying? Get that car backed out of the parking place. Let’s get to the hotel, get our bags and get the hell out of here, fast!”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
I looked at Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī.
“Well, the will is a public document. It can be read by anyone after probate. Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s father, didn’t want, naturally, to invite speculation about his relationship with Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī grimaced.
“Everyone isn’t as bold as you are.”
“What do you mean?”
“You never tried to hide your relationships with women until and unless the women themselves requested you to do so.”
“Well, Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq had allowed Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī to keep it clandestine. It was their personal matter.”
“Speculation!” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī chuckled, “The old hypocrite. Everyone knows Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī kept her from day one. He must have left her something in the will too.”
“Well, you know he didn’t leave Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq nothing. It’s only that Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq isn’t in his will. Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq was provided for a year before the death of Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s father, at the beginning of his last illness.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī watched me apprehensively.
“I made his will for our firm HVS Law Internationals. Still Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī never told me what he gave to Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq.”
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is trying to know asking you every now and then, you told me.” I was grave now, “It’s better you don’t know it.”
“Well, I want to know it myself.”
“I promised Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī and Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq, both, never to tell it to anyone. I’m sorry it wouldn’t be right for me to go into that, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī. There is a confidentiality in a relationship between─”
“I know, I know,” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī interrupted, “I just wondered how he felt about Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq at the end. Did he leave her the flat?”
“What if he did? Why Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is interested in it?” I said somewhat curtly, “It wasn’t Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s money. It wasn’t his flat. His father Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī built it with his own money. Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī could give him to any black thief even if he wanted to. Tell him if he tries to know again, it’s none of his business.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī suspects you fucked Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq even while his father, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, was alive.”
“The only person that could object it was Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s father, not Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.” I said curtly, “Tell the stupid not to interfere with my affairs. Otherwise, even his Ammī wouldn’t be capable to save him.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.
“I’ve already advised the bastard accordingly.*
I looked at her.
“Damn it, Ħāfizah Ashraf, that’s one of you, my beloveds’, daughter you’re talking about. I want her here.”
“One of us, your beloveds’, daughter? I saw how she was looking at you! Not very daughterly, Durgesh.”
“Ħāfizah Ashraf ─”
“NO! You know I wanted you to fuck me out there by the pool, for reason. You just don’t want to share my attention. She’s such a homely dorky little thing anyway.”
I stared at Ħāfizah Ashraf gravely.
“Let me remind you, Ħāfizah Ashraf, you are my friend’s daughter actually, not a cook. You are living here with me only acting as my cook. Your Abbū, my friend, left you here only to help me for cooking until he didn’t find a suitable cook for me. You lied to him that the Musalmān terrorists were seeking you because they thought you are living in relationship with me, erroneously. My friend thought you are safer here with me in that case, than with him. I suspected your intentions ab initio. That’s why when you fucked me while I was sleeping; we have a Close Circuit TV recording of everything what you did with me.”
Ħāfizah Ashraf smiled.
“And you think, my Abbū, never knew what I was after?”
“He knows everything.”
Suraiyā Ibrāhīm made a lot of noise as she came down the last few steps and turned into the kitchen.
I was pouring a juice for me and Ħāfizah Ashraf’s back was turned.
The air vibrated with tension.
I looked up and I was graver.
“Suraiyā Ibrāhīm cat, you look ─” I left my sentence incomplete.
Ħāfizah Ashraf turned to see and her mouth dropped open.
Suraiyā Ibrāhīm thought it was the closest she would ever come to a Cinderella Moment.
I walked over to her taking in every inch of her skin hugging, low cut, sophisticated black dress.
I reached out and fingered the delicate string of pearls.
My knuckles brushed her collarbone and sent goose bumps racing across her skin.
Then I turned and stuck my arm out like a proper gentleman.
“Madame, may I escort you to dinner?”
Suraiyā Ibrāhīm giggled at the unexpected joke and took my arm.
We strolled into the dining room leaving Ħāfizah Ashraf standing in the kitchen with her mouth hanging open.
I pulled her chair out and slid it under her, then seated myself.
Ħāfizah Ashraf stomped in the room with dinner plates.
She slammed down the chicken Caprese in front of Suraiyā Ibrāhīm and me so hard, our silverware rattled.
She left and returned with three glasses and started pouring sweet tea.
“This looks delicious, Ħāfizah Ashraf.” Suraiyā Ibrāhīm said trying to break the remaining tension.
“Oh thank you, dear,” Ħāfizah Ashraf replied with barely hidden sarcasm. “I’m sure you just love LOOKING at things.”
“Ħāfizah Ashraf!” my voice was raised. “Thank you for all your hard work today. Why don’t you take the night off? I think the robot maid can do the cleaning up.”
Ħāfizah Ashraf turned to me, silent, eyes wide.
“Good night, Ħāfizah Ashraf.” my voice was deep and threatening.
Ħāfizah Ashraf stood, unmoving, for a long uncomfortable Moment and then rushed out slamming every door on her way.*
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī enquired again.
“Did Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī let Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq keep her condo?”
“Al Nādir Al Ghāzī asked you it too?”
“He is very inquisitive.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī looked at me gravely.
“I see. Try to squeeze him more why he is so inquisitive? Have any idea?”
“Not until now.”
“Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī gave the condo to Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq years ago. Moreover, he made Al Ħanīfah Al Siddīq a cash settlement too. A generous cash settlement. She is already living in comfort herself.”
“I see,” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī digested the information.
It wasn’t easy to get any information from me about my clientele if it weren’t utmost necessary for her to know.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was my associate attorney, as well as my live in relationship partner too, yet my clientele’s privacy was still a sacred thing I always guarded carefully.
That was why my clientele have faith in me more than they had in other lawyers, consultants and sex therapists.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was too inquisitive.
“How much of the estate did Abbū leave me, ma’am, actually?”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī had regarded him apprehensively.
“As I said the bulk of it. About the three quarters of it went to your sister, Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī.”
“Well, it isn’t any surprise. He never hid he thought Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī Bājī more efficient than I am. We differed only in one matter. Abbū claimed it was her own intelligence and I claimed it was Durgesh that was guiding her.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī retorted.
It wasn’t Al Nādir Al Ghāzī alone that attributed the Musalmān women’s intelligence to Durgesh, almost the entire Musalmān mankind did it.
Because it was a fact?
Well, somewhat it was true even, yet not to the extent, they claimed.
The Musalmān womankind herself wasn’t as stupid as they thought.
“How much?” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī asked.
“To Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī?”
“I should estimate─ a worth of over a billion dollars.”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī sat down.
“Give me the rest of it, please,”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī couldn’t decide Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was really polite or he was especially polite to her because she was associated with Durgesh.
“What about the newspapers?” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī asked patiently.
“Well, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, your Abbū, gave most of the newspapers to your elder sister, Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī. But there are still five left.”
“I’m interested in only one,” said Al Nādir Al Ghāzī patiently, yet with obvious efforts now to keep his patience, “The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, Abbū’s flagship paper. The others are not rags. Yet, The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, that’s important. I agreed with Abbū that I would let him give his three quarters of estate to Al Taqddus Al Ghāzī Bājī if he gives The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah to me. He left me that, didn’t he?”
“Ah, yes,” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī fumbled with the pages of the document, “Yes, I was about to get to that.”*
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was impatient, but he didn’t want to show his impatience to Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her entire Seven Movements Musalmān Beauties Brigade was constantly advertising everywhere deliberately that the Musalmān mankind was always impatient not to understand anything ever.
They always acted without trying to understand the entire things their opponents wanted to hide from them ever under their well-guarded secret strategy.
That’s why their brain never developed optimum.
The Musalmān womankind had always to live under their never understanding Musalmān mankind.
It was necessary therefore to use their brain as much as it was possible for them.
That’s why their brain developed more than the brain of their Musalmān mankind.
It was the matter of survival for the Musalmān womankind.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī always tried his best to prove this claim wrong.
He controlled himself.
“What’s there to get to?” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī tried to smile, “It’s my Abbū’s one possession that matters to me utmost. That paper made him famous, until he became inattentive. I grew up on that paper. I know what to do with it. It is mine now, isn’t it?”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī enjoyed the situation.
Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī knew his son’s inhumane terrorist intentions.
He also knew Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was dying to fulfill them through The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
He wasn’t intelligent enough to understand that it became famous not due to its excellent journalism.
It represented Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s ever infamous Seven Movements instead, clandestinely.
It was advertised orally everywhere by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Seven Movements Brigade.
They always purchased it.
They always advertised it.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī never understood behind every successful newspaper and news channel there was a well-organized political organization represented by it, clandestinely.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī turned the pages of the will.
“Well, as to that, yes and no,” she said.
She found what she wanted and reread it to herself.
“Concerning The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, there is a restrictive clause.”
“I see. What’s that?”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was surprised to find Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was still patient.
He still wasn’t impatient even a bit.
It was a miraculous positive change in Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī has died waiting for it.
Nevertheless, ultimately Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī had succeeded to improve his otherwise rotten son to behave more intelligent for his own success.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī praised Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī genuinely but not openly.
She doubted Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s apparent patience heavily.
“Your Abbū bequeathed the newspaper to you but there is a restrictive condition.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī said patiently.
“It’s an odd clause.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī watched Al Nādir Al Ghāzī carefully, “I remember when he inserted it.”
“Let’s come to the point.”
“You’re to have The Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, of course. But conditionally, for a trial year. During that year you must at some point exceed the daily circulation of Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Times. If you can do that just once, the paper is yours permanently. If you fail, the newspaper must perforce be sold to Dr. Saåīdah Qamar of the Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot Times. Dr. Saåīdah Qamar had made your Abbū an offer some months before his death. Yet, of course, that clause is inoperative if…”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī could not listen to her anymore.
His immediate reaction was,
‘The bastard Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot lover pervert. He always loved to lick Musalmān Cunts and female Musalmān ass, and clean them, after Durgesh fucked them. He was suffering from cancer and he believed it would cure him. Coincidentally he really was cured. The ever superstitious damn fool believed it was due to what he was doing, licking and cleaning the beautiful Musalmān Cunts and Musalmān ass of his beautiful Musalmān houseladies after Durgesh fucked them. Even Durgesh said it was a coincidence only. Yet he never believed Durgesh even. He believed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan instead that was already running ‘Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement’. He was a pervert bastard that was supported by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. He succeeded because his success was beneficial to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. He didn’t have any talent whatsoever as it’s claimed everywhere.’
Yet, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī didn’t say it.
Instead, he said.
“Abbū always thought Dr. Saåīdah Qamar more intelligent than me, his own son. I’m glad that at least he gave me my chance. I have to prove myself more intelligent than Abbū’s real younger sister, my aunt, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar Buā? Okay.”*
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked at Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr.
It was more than obvious, Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr was worried.
“Narendr has promised to do everything he can.” Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr said.
“I don’t think he can do very much. The Pakistani High Commissioner deliberately did it and I am sure Narendr Modi would never tolerate it.” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar said gravely.
Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr clenched her fist.
“The separatists once more succeeded in keeping Pakistan separate from mainstream. Nawaz Sharif tried his best, but Imran Khan and Muħammad Tahir ul Qadri found it detrimental to their own political career.”*
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī looked at Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
“Your Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Ghāzī, was immensely influenced by Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr. Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr was actually his friend, philosopher and guide.”
“That was the actual problem the most of the Musalmīn hated my Abbū.” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said scornfully.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled sarcastically.
“I don’t think so, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī. Your Abbū was a more respected figure among journalists than you can even imagine.”
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī controlled himself.
Allah, how the hell he forgot Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was an ardent fan of Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr and Professor Narendrnāth Sharmā both.
Despite the fact that Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr and Professor Narendrnāth Sharmā never married they were one of the most successful couples of Global fame.
They had ten sons.
Imam Dr. Aurangzeb Åālamgīr was the eldest of the ten sons Professor Narendrnāth Sharmā and Dr. Ħumayrah Shāhjahān Jahāngīr had.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was proud of herself that she meticulously succeeded in keeping her live in relationship with me clandestine.
Her shrewd co wives, Dr. Safiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī, Dr. Sādiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī and Dr. Tasnīm Jamāl were themselves not born yesterday.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was thirty-three now.
Dr. Safiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī was thirty two, Dr. Tasnīm Jamāl was thirty one and Dr. Sādiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī was too around somewhere the same age group.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar had found Dr. Safiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī and Dr. Sādiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī to grab my Uncut Hindu Lund every now and then playfully.
It was really a miracle to her that none of the both had still succeeded in having sex with me formally, despite the long three years that had passed.
It was difficult to decide among them who was more beautiful and cunning.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was the one actually.
She was sucking me now, giving me an extraordinary blowjob.
“Hey Durgesh, you got an itch there?” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar joked.
“Why? You want to scratch it?” I teased her back.
“Hey, you’re being bad, now.” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar mockingly replied.
“Oh, I think you can handle it,” and I gave Dr. Saåīdah Qamar the big grin, one more in a series of them we’d seemed to share.
“I don’t know, let’s see,” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar said and leaned toward me in my chair holding my hands out and motioning to me.
“Huh?” I wasn’t sure where Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was headed.
“Come here and sit up,” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar instructed, and when I did, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar took my right hand into her hands and turned it so it faced palm forward and fingers up.
I looked at Dr. Saåīdah Qamar.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was close enough now to smell my musky and distinctive scent.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar held my hand up with her left hand and then she pressed her right hand against mine.
In a low voice, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked me in the eyes and slowly said, “Durgesh, I think you’re right. … I think I can handle it.”
There was no mistake what Dr. Saåīdah Qamar meant.
There was no longer a smile on either of our faces, but there was an intensity and closeness ready to explode.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar then surprised me, saying,
“There’s a bathroom in the pool house if you need to use it. I’m gonna get some more beer out of there to take in the house.”
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked at me with a grin as Dr. Saåīdah Qamar stood, not saying a word.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar must have been out of her mind, because Dr. Saåīdah Qamar tugged the wrap from my waist and just let it fall to the ground, leaving her little bikini facing me and just inches from my face.
I paused and let me stare.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar then turned and walked up toward the pool house.
What was Dr. Saåīdah Qamar thinking?
From inside, if anyone had been looking, it’d have been like Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was taking it off right there in my face, teasing me and working me up all the more.
And then, when Dr. Saåīdah Qamar walked up toward the pool house, well …for me to just shake her tight Musalmān ass back and forth, knowing good and well I was looking.
It probably would’ve looked even obscene.
Nevertheless, no one was looking.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar got inside the pool house and it was dark, given the late afternoon/ early evening time.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar didn’t turn on a light, and she didn’t hear if I was coming in behind her.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar just made her way to the room in the back that did have some light barely shining through.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar still didn’t hear me coming inside the pool house.
Yet, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar didn’t turn around or pause.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was confident there was no question I was coming in the house and coming into this bathroom.
I was coming for Dr. Saåīdah Qamar, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar realized.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked into the mirror and smiled at my reflection, “you are really, really a bad girl.”
Then Dr. Saåīdah Qamar jumped.
She was startled by seeing me now standing behind Dr. Saåīdah Qamar.
We were looking now at each other in our reflections.
Nothing was said as I moved closer behind Dr. Saåīdah Qamar.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt my utmost experienced Hindu hands on her perfectly round, firm, gorgeous, ever glamorous, heavy, big, plump, excellent, exquisite, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks and then my Hindu male lips on her neck.
My lips kissed gently at her neck as my arms enveloped Dr. Saåīdah Qamar.
My arms held Dr. Saåīdah Qamar close to me and for the first time Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was aware of my unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund pressing her.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt the contour of it in her shorts as it snaked down my leg.
I felt very hard.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar raised her hands up over her head to reach behind her for my face and hair, stroking me and letting me have unfettered access to her top.
I reached around, and in one motion, I rubbed under the bikini top and had my hands on her bare Musalmān tits.
They were just a little bigger than my handfuls, but the nipples were large and thick.
They got thicker as I rubbed her beautiful Musalmān tits and pulled on her nipples, making Dr. Saåīdah Qamar hum.
After I had had my way with her beautiful Musalmān tits for a while, I wanted to know the effect I was having on the thirty-three years old, young, extremely beautiful, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar.
I was grateful to her husband that he suspected his entire extremely beautiful young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wives were having extramarital affair with me.
It was not so then.
Dr. Safiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī and Dr. Sādiyah Nādirshāh Durrānī were only teasing him grabbing my Uncut Hindu Lund before him, but Dr. Saåīdah Qamar wasn’t doing even that.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar did it when her husband actually deserted them on erroneous suspicions.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar took my right hand in the both of her hands and slowly moved it down her front, never letting it leave her soft Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān skin.
My rugged and calloused hand was a nice contrast to her young soft Musalmān skin, as we both watched what she was doing in the mirror.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar stopped my hand with her right hand, as it cupped her tummy.
I pressed slightly feeling her softness there.
Then, when she was sure I had my eyes looking in the mirror at my hand right above her crotch, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar took my left hand and pulled open her bikini bottom, pulling it down somewhat in the process.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar let me see the blondish-brown curls nestled atop her special little place down there.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar then looked into my eyes in the reflection, as her right hand pushed my right hand on downward until my palm cupped her beautiful mound.
I definitely did press forward then.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar let my head fall back on the nook between her shoulder and neck when Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt those thick Uncut Hindu Lund wiggle at her Musalmān gash.
I felt her juices soak my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar moaned a low and throaty response as I worked my Uncut Hindu Lund over and around her pussy lips, then plunging it inside her.
“AAAAHHHH…” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar groaned as I plundered her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot unrestricted.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar bucked against my Uncut Hindu Lund, and I obliged Dr. Saåīdah Qamar by pushing my Uncut Hindu Lund deeper, using my thumb to graze over her hard clit.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was as turned on as she had ever been before.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar didn’t care now, if the entire world watched, because this was what Dr. Saåīdah Qamar wanted and what Dr. Saåīdah Qamar needed.
She had to have me.
I sensed this, as Dr. Saåīdah Qamar released her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot from my Uncut Hindu Lund, and then pushed her upper torso forward so that her upper body was now lying over the tile counter.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt her legs spread her stance apart, shifting her legs. Dr. Saåīdah Qamar let out a little crying sound at the feeling of being totally in my control and bent over to my will.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked up into the mirror and I disappeared behind her, descending out-of-view.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked straight ahead.
She was close to the mirror and my reflection, wondering what was to come next.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt my hands at her smooth pink Musalmān thighs, a gentle lifting motion putting her a little higher onto the counter.
I was basically doing what Dr. Saåīdah Qamar wanted to her, and her body was completely mine to have.
It was then that Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt my Uncut Hindu Lund nudge between her legs from behind and Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt my Uncut Hindu Lund touch her ravenous Musalmān clit.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar let out a yelp at the surprise of this.
and then Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt my Uncut Hindu Lund trace slowly from the front of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, into and onto the lips of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and pull back up into her backside.
I rubbed at her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot two or three times , dragging my Uncut Hindu Lund through her as she groaned.
I was tasting juices around my Uncut Hindu Lund that were flowing freely.
There was a pause where Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt nothing for a moment and then Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt me drag my Uncut Hindu Lund from the back of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot slowly up the crack of her beautiful Musalmān ass.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar had never felt anything like that before and the sheer wantonness of it made her come and come hard, as I ran my Uncut Hindu Lund around her Musalmān asshole and poked at her puckered Musalmān hole.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was dizzy with the sensations.
I again moved away from Dr. Saåīdah Qamar for a moment.
I stood and Dr. Saåīdah Qamar saw me behind her.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked at me in the mirror, and as our eyes met, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar winked mischievously.
I silently nodded.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar took my unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund with her right hand and placed the head of it to her labial lips back there.
My left hand rested on her back, in effect keeping Dr. Saåīdah Qamar pinned.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar liked the sense of not having any control whatsoever, and I knew what was coming.
Her juices flowed.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar traced the unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lundhead back and forth, up and down her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty-three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot lips spreading her juices around and getting her good and ready.
After some of this teasing, I pushed a couple of inches inside of Dr. Saåīdah Qamar and Dr. Saåīdah Qamar took in a deep breath, gasping loudly.
The thickness of my unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund was something she was enjoying since past three years.
Thank goodness, I always knew what I was doing.
I let Dr. Saåīdah Qamar once more get used to me, only moving again once her opening had relaxed somewhat.
It was while I was gently rocking back and forth inside of Dr. Saåīdah Qamar that she did relax more.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar surprised me when she pushed back against me.
Even so, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar couldn’t get me more than half way inside on that push.
Nevertheless, it was the move I’d waited on.
Because I pulled back after a moment until I was just about out.
We caught each other’s look again in the mirror, and in that instant, I knew what was coming. I wondered if maybe─ just maybe─ she’d finally overdone it.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar thrust her perfectly round, firm, gorgeous, ever glamorous, heavy, big, plump, excellent, exquisite, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks hard against me and Dr. Saåīdah Qamar cried out.
It was both pain and intense pleasure, as I bore into Dr. Saåīdah Qamar with long powerful Hindu strokes.
I was now fucking Dr. Saåīdah Qamar and fucking Dr. Saåīdah Qamar hard.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar had no control or movement to it, instead I held her on to the counter and I took Dr. Saåīdah Qamar repeatedly.
I was incredibly hard and filled Dr. Saåīdah Qamar up with each downstroke.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar made noises and groaned, and I distinctly remembered the expression “fucking like animals”—this is what it was.
Just primal pounding of Dr. Saåīdah Qamar and me going at it, and nothing but our panting and the sound of flesh hitting flesh filling the room.
None knew how long it continued similarly.
The orgasms and sensations flowed over her.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar thought Dr. Saåīdah Qamar might really pass out. After a while, I was close and I pushed in deeper.
I was close and I held my unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund deepest in her extremely beautiful, extremely enticing, extremely lovely, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, pink, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot .
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar fell to her knees, facing opposite me.
Her beautiful, extremely enticing, extremely lovely, Panjvaqtah Namāzī, pink, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks fitted my nude Hindu lap optimum.
Dr. Saåīdah Qamar looked behind at me.
I looked down at her, and then with my unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund between us I pumped it into her.
My come shot into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī thirty three years old, young, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
After the first few threads, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar closed her labial lips around my unique, legendary, utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund, sucking the last drops from my thick head, her extremely beautiful Musalmān eyes locked to mine.
We both were now savoring our intense love for each other.
She never knew she loved and needed me so much.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The June morning dawned bright and warm.
It was a beautiful day for a wedding.
I had set my alarm for 6 a.m.
My criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, was getting married today.
Despite Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī’s every effort, she could not make her ever-stupid son to see the changing environment of the globe.
He wasn’t ever a member of any terrorist group, nevertheless he never found anything irreligious in any of that anti justice anti human organizations.
Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī decided not to marry him ever until he isn’t human at least somewhat.
Nevertheless, Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī’s scheme again backfired.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār loved Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, as he was himself now.
“You do understand he can join any terrorist group anytime,” Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī told Al Jihad Al Vaqār curtly, “Don’t you?”
“I doubt it, Ammī.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār cooed, “Al Nādir Al Ghāzī didn’t join them when it was easier for the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists to survive and succeed. Now, Narendr Modī is in power in India. Have you forgotten what Narendr Modī did in Gujarat with these bloody Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists?”*
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled confidently.
The bloody Alkuffār.
Everyone is thinking Islam has lost forever.
Hindutv is in power now.
Not Narendr Modī.
No doubt, the Hindu scoundrel is lucky.
Every effort to kill Narendr Modī has backfired till now, without any exception.
There are millions of Musalmīn.
How many of them the Hindus can arrest?
How many of them the Hindus can hang till they don’t die?
He had proposed to kill Nawaz Sharif in India, at least, if not Narendr Modī.
However, none listened to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
They think Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is stupid.
Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun!
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī sat at the wheel of the marvelous green seat of his Station Wagon.
The Indian Mujahidin are too afraid of Narendr Modī.
They think he is immortal now.
Nonsense, no one is immortal.
Let Al Nādir Al Ghāzī kill the root, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, first.
It was Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her ever unashamed shameless Musalmān lady brigade that always protect Hindus.
They always betray Musalmīn.
The persons like Jāved Akħtar, Salīm, etcetera have surrendered to Hindus already.
It’s not important what they say.
They have to do it for their own survival.
Kalma-e-kufr is allowed in Islam to self survival if there isn’t another option.
Islam isn’t a dīn of stupidity, irrespective of what the foolish Al Kuffār say.*
I got out of the hotel bed, and walked into the bathroom to get showered before seven.
According to the plan of the bride and groom, each one would share a wedding day breakfast with the other’s parents.
In this case, it meant that Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s bride-to-be, Al Jihad Al Vaqār, would be having breakfast, with me, in my hotel room, and Al Nādir Al Ghāzī would have breakfast with Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s parents, Al Jalāl Al Wahāb and Al Qahar Al Īmān.
I was grave for my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
He was marrying a great girl.
It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful from head to toe either.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār was a 26 year old interior decorator who’d met Al Nādir Al Ghāzī through mutual friends.
The attraction was immediate and after 2 years of courtship, he’d asked her to be his wife.
I slipped on a pair of loose fitting sweats and a casual t-shirt.
A knock on the door announced that room service was there.
The bellhop wheeled a cart in filled with different covered trays.
Quickly and quietly the bellhop set the table up for two.
I paid him a tip and he left.
I lifted the lids of each dish and found Belgian waffles under one, strawberries under another, a bowl of whipped cream, scrambled eggs on a plate, and sausages under another.
A carafe of coffee and a bottle of orange juice completed the meal.
I imagined Al Jihad Al Vaqār wouldn’t be too hungry, as is, having wedding day jitters.
But just in case, I’d made sure I ordered a good breakfast.
Promptly at 7 a.m., there was a knock on my hotel room door.
I answered it and there stood my knockout beautiful, soon to be ‘daughter in law’, Al Jihad Al Vaqār.
“Good morning, dad,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said as she smiled, leaned in and kissed me on my cheek.
I invited her in and ushered her over to the table of waiting food.
I pulled her chair out for her as she sat down.
I took the chair across from her.
Like me, Al Jihad Al Vaqār was very casually dressed for this hour of the morning.
She wore a thick bathrobe under which she wore a short cream colored chemise with boy shorts.
“Would it bother you terribly if I took my robe off, dad?” Al Jihad Al Vaqār asked.
“Of course not Al Jihad Al Vaqār, get comfortable girl.” I replied.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār stood up and took the robe off.
She walked the robe over to the coat rack by the door and hung it there.
I was mesmerized as I watched her walk over to hang the robe up.
I’d never seen Al Jihad Al Vaqār in anything other than classy suits or blue jeans.
The chemise she wore was soft ivory and hung just below the cheeks of her excellent heavy plump luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān butt.
Her legs were long and slender and she was very shapely.
When she turned and walked back towards the table, even I had to catch my breath.
The front of the chemise was cut low and rested on the top of her breasts that were full and filled out the front of the chemise.
I could actually see her beautiful nipples poking through the fabric.
She was one beautiful Musalmān woman I thought again.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled as she sat down across from me.
She enjoyed a good relationship with her soon to be father in law.
I’d made her feel like part of the family from the start.
I razzed her just as much as I did Al Nādir Al Ghāzī and my 3 other Musalmān stepsons.
She’d always admired me.
She also found me very attractive.
Even far more attractive, far more romantic and far sexier than her soon to be husband was.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was a handsome man, but he looked more like his mother than his father.
More feminine than masculine.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s hair was sandy brown like his mother’s, as well as having his mother’s green eyes.
My hair was a dark black, and I was not even starting to grey at my temples, as some men in my age did.
My eyes too were black and framed by spiky long lashes.
Even in my medium height, I stood a full 3 inches taller than my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
I stood up and started to remove the lids from the food.
“I didn’t know what you’d want, but I knew you liked Belgian waffles so I ordered them and all of this. I hope you’re hungry, young lady.” I smiled warmly at Al Jihad Al Vaqār. “Would you like me to make the bride a plate?”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled back at me,
“Actually Dad, I am hungry, but my nerves are a little edgy. May we just sit and talk for a little bit before we eat? It will calm my nerves.”
“Sure hon'” I said, “C’mon, come sit on the bed and we’ll chat like friends.” I smiled.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār and I got comfortable on the bed.
I sat with my back against the headboard and Al Jihad Al Vaqār sat cross-legged in front of me.
“Is that better?” I asked.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār laughed at my friendly remark and said,
“This is fine, dad.”
She sat there looking at me and couldn’t explain the weird feeling coming over her.
I was sitting there smiling at her and she had this unexplainable urge to kiss me.
How incredible it was.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her entire Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad always said,
“No beautiful woman, irrespective of her age, can ever resist Durgesh’s infinite masculine charms. Durgesh complains that no woman let him continue ever a platonic relationship with her. But how the hell can anyone? Durgesh has infinite Bhogchakr.”
Is it true?
Al Jihad Al Vaqār laughed.
She never believed in the ever ridiculous Bhogchakr theory of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Musalmān lady brigade.
It was a nonsense.*
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had parked his station wagon from the Iron Gate at the entrance of the massive Ashvinātam Masjid.
He kept an eye on the University young ladies and even mature Musalmān beautiful ladies going inside for Al Fajir mass.
It was the tenth and last day of their Ijlās.
If their quarry arrived today, as he had the previous nine mornings, the pattern was set.
They would place the dynamite in the tunnel beneath the street tonight.
They would detonate the explosives and assassinate their tremendously scorned enemy, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, the founder of HLMCIC.
Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot International Clubs.
Let the ever-democratic scoundrel go to hell.
Even if they couldn’t kill Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan the so called Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā reincarnated due to her immensely incredible black magic powers, they could kill at least her immensely respected Abbū, the devil incarnate,
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī peered at his wristwatch.
“You’d better go in now,” he said quietly to the young lady in the front seat beside him. “If the bastard is on schedule, he should be here in five minutes.”
“Do I have to?” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī smiled devilishly, “What purpose? He’d never get to the damn Masjid, Ashvinātam Masjid, hunh, tomorrow morning.”
“For positive identification,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled cunningly, “They want to fuck our muqaddas, pious, Pāk, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ladies. Let them. Who the hell are more pious than the Mujāhidāt themselves? Hindu scoundrels, fuck Mujāhidāt and be damned. Our Mujāhidāt would keep you busy 24×7 in sex with them. They’d give birth to your Hindu sons who would be the Mujāhidīn next generation, as we are.”
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan has planned to expose us to the true Musalmīn, as he calls them.” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī smiled sarcastically.
“True Musalmīn? Who support the ever coward Hindus?” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled curtly.
“Now they are in power, don’t forget.”
“I won’t, ever,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said bitterly. “I want you to see him close up. We’ve got to be certain he is Al Saåīd Al Qādir, the deputy prime minister in charge of defense, and no other. Go ahead, Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī, it’s the last time.”
“Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun,”
“Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun,”
They never said, “Allah Ħāfiz,”
They always said, ‘Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun’, instead.
It was their code somewhat even.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was nineteen only, while Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was twenty nine already.
“Fa qatulū almusharikīn,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said.
“Ħaysu wajadttumūhum.” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī said.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī watched her leave the car, cross over, and reach the landing below the massive Masjid door.
Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī fell in among other worshipers at the steps, climbing up and going inside the Masjid.*
Al Jihad Al Vaqār tried to dispel the thought from her mind, but it wouldn’t shake.
Even worse, her thoughts started getting more provocative about me.
I sat there a little thoughtful by the strange look on Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s face.
One moment she’d been smiling at me and now she was sitting there staring at me with this peculiar look.
“Al Jihad Al Vaqār, are you okay?” I said in a concerned voice.
As if in a daze, Al Jihad Al Vaqār got up on her knees and inched herself intimately close to me.
Without saying a word, she placed her extremely beautiful red crimson luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips on mine and tenderly kissed me.
Inhaling she could take in my masculine Hindu scent and her kiss became a little more searching as her tongue pried its way between my lips.
Now I fully understood the weird look on Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s face, but what I didn’t understand was why in the hell was I returning her kiss?
She was about to marry my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
Oh how her mouth was warm sweet though.
I sucked her extremely beautiful red crimson luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips in between mine while my hands began to explore what was under the chemise.
Right before my eyes, Al Jihad Al Vaqār raised the chemise above and over her head and threw it on the floor.
Her breasts were stunning.
My mouth watered just looking at them.
My hands reached out for them and I grasped and caressed them.
No words were spoken as passion overtook the both of us.
We both knew what our actions were leading up to, but as if possessed by a hunger we couldn’t explain we didn’t stop.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār, only in her boy shorts straddled My lap and began to kiss me again.
Our kiss was hungry and passionate.
My cock was hard and I could feel it pressing against Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s pussy.
I grabbed a hand full of her excellent heavy plump luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass and pulled her even closer to me as we kissed.
Pushing myself away from the headboard, I laid Al Jihad Al Vaqār down in front of me.
Staring at her sexy body, I removed my t-shirt and stripped my sweats off.
My Uncut Hindu Cock was long, thick and very erect as my sweats came off.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār started to slide her boy shorts down, when I took over and slid them completely off for her.
Smiling at her, I bowed my head down and inhaled her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
It was warm and musky.
Easing myself down between her legs, I spread them apart.
Her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy was beautifully shaven.
Wrapping my mouth fully over it, I kissed it passionately.
My lips ravaged her.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks bucked under me and her hands pressed my head deeper into her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Yes, Durgesh, kiss me, kiss me there.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār huskily whispered.
I drove Al Jihad Al Vaqār wild when I kissed across her clit.
I loved this.
At this moment, I did not care that Al Jihad Al Vaqār was about to marry my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
She had chosen to allow me this privilege and I sure as hell wasn’t going to pass it up.
Let the anti-human Pseudo Musalmān terrorist suffer, even if he was my stepson.
Let him get punished.
I knew once with me, Al Jihad Al Vaqār would never return to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī completely.
She could never forget the immense sexual bliss she would get from me.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī couldn’t give its ten percent even.
Pressing my head hard against her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, Al Jihad Al Vaqār felt herself about to cum.
Her orgasm overtook her and spread through her entire body.
I had already stopped doing what I was doing.
As her orgasm subsided, I kissed her clit once more and then got up on top of her.
Kneeing her legs open a bit more, I positioned my ultra-hard Uncut Hindu Cock and then drove it deep inside Al Jihad Al Vaqār.
Her excellent young Musalmān body bucked and we both moaned loudly.
With an ardent intensity, I began to work my Uncut Hindu Cock in and out of her silky Musalmān pussy.
All the while, Al Jihad Al Vaqār moaned loudly and called out my name.
It was a good thing that her parent’s room, was on another floor of the hotel.
Anyone walking by the room would have clearly heard what was going on inside.
Her calling out my name only turned me on more and I worked my Uncut Hindu Cock even harder pounding into her.
Getting up on my knees, I flipped Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s legs over my shoulders and proceeded to drive deeper and deeper into her tight Musalmān pussy.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, she felt so good to me.
I knew I could cum at any moment, but I wouldn’t allow myself as I suspected this moment could never happen again.
With that thought in mind, I gave it all I could working my Uncut Hindu Cock in and out, my balls slapping against Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s beautiful Musalmān ass.
Grunting with each thrust, I watched the ecstasy etched all over Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s beautiful young Musalmān face.
I loved knowing I was the one giving her this pleasure.
As much as I detested my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson, I wanted to make sure that nobody ever fucked Al Jihad Al Vaqār as well as I was at this moment.
I wanted her to remember this.
“Yes darling! Is this what you want?” I said out of breath.
“Allah, Måshā Allah, Subħān Allah, yes,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār breathlessly replied. “I want you to cum into me, dad, sorry, not dad now, Durgesh darling, my actual husband from now on!”
“That’s right. What the hell do you think? I want to cuckold your terrorist stepson to both of us. And Wallāh, I promise to do it. Let him clean my Musalmān Cunt licking it, after you fuck me.”
I didn’t say anything as to its response.
I dropped Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s legs off of my shoulders and laid down on her.
Kissing her very lovingly, I rhythmically began to slide my Uncut Hindu Cock back and forth until I felt my orgasm began to build up and finally explode.
A loud guttural cry escaped from my lips as My body froze and I emptied my Hindu seed into Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s fertile Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān womb.
“Thank you darlin'” I said, as I smiled and kissed Al Jihad Al Vaqār afterward. “You’re something else, you beautiful woman. My stepson is a lucky man.”
No more words were said as we got up, enjoyed a shower together and then ate breakfast leisurely.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār got dressed again, and slipped off to her room to prepare for her wedding day.
No one smiled more, at the wedding, than the bride and the father of the groom that day.
About a year later, I could only smile when people told me how much my 3 month old namesake grandson looked like me.
There would be more in the line.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Everbest Wives
Eīshān! God, and now Al Kāynāt Al Islam, who looked so much like her Ammī herself, wanted to suck my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Eīshāno Vishvvédasah! God knows, Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun! How she had managed her teenager Musalmān girlfriends to suck my Uncut Hindu Lund .
The girl was miraculously extraordinary smart.
Even at her eighteen only, she was a PhD and a respected instructor in Ashvinātam Relationships.
I had sex almost 24x7x365 with extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies respectfully.
I never needed to destroy my platonic relationship with Al Kāynāt Al Islam for sex.
I was already taking beautiful Musalmān women home, fucking them while she was in the next room.
There wasn’t any problem.
Not only my opponents, even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Seven Movements Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Lady Brigade was advertising it 24x7x365.
Eīshān! I’d never thought Al Kāynāt Al Islam would be my next score.
“Only a blow job,” I muttered. “Just until you cum. She’s out of her mind.”
Yet, I couldn’t deny the fact that my Uncut Hindu Lund was hard now.
I turned on the TV to ESPN. I didn’t care who was playing or what the sport was.
I was never interested in damned sports.
Yet, I needed something to distract me.
I don’t know why didn’t go to Stavan.
It would have been the best.
Was Al Kāynāt Al Islam’s crazy obsession more powerful?
As powerful as to affect my Bhogchakr even?
I don’t know.
Eīshān! It was the sports illustrated swimsuit special!
Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Girls were running around on the beach with photographers snapping pictures!
Eīshān no doubt was helping Al Kāynāt Al Islam.
I turned off the TV, moving to the bathroom.
I stood in front of the toilet, unzipped my pants, reached in, and pulled out my ten inches of thick Uncut Hindu Lund.
It was standing straight up, the helmet red and angry at my mistreatment of it.
I gazed along the shaft.
Al Kāynāt Al Islam wanted to suck it.
Al Kāynāt Al Islam wanted to suck it.
Yet, what was new in it?
Haven’t all of them already done it?*
It had been a year almost to the day since I had left home.
For me it had been a year of picking up casual sex therapy patients and families on the brink of breaking only due to sexual problems not attended scientifically, practically and prudently, instead of traditionally and emotionally erroneously, as I roamed around the country.
All the time I roamed, I was longing for home and Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb.
Yet now, as I approached home in my new Mercedes, I was filled with apprehension.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb and I had agreed to separate and had no contact whatsoever for the whole year in order to be sure that what she wanted was I, and no one else, despite my being the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.
The relationship she had briefly begun was so potent and yet so hazardous that she needed to be utterly secure in my love.
I had every knowledge of what had been happening at home and to Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb.
I did even know I had left her in a distressing situation, since she insisted on it adamantly, despite my every effort to explain to her why it shouldn’t be done.
Had it not been for Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb’s strong resolve that we must have the year apart I might never have left her.
A few days before making the journey home, I had telephoned Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb.
That too we had agreed upon.
That was to make sure that I wanted to come home, and that Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb wanted me to.
“Things, feelings, change in the course of a year,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb had said, “and we need to be sure. I’m still immensely afraid of your ever over humanity and morals for inhumans even. ”
One thing I had learned from the telephone call had been that at last the philandering Waħīdah had left Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb and was now living with a girl I had met while on a “business trip” to the Philippines.
I thought that this would make things easier for Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, and me but I thought I had detected a note doubt in her voice when I said I was returning home.
Nevertheless, she had agreed that I should return now.
As I drove the last leg of the journey, my mind wandered back to the night it had all begun.
“No,” I thought, “that was not when it began.”
That night had only been the culmination of what had been brewing between us for at least four years.
It was the almost inevitable outcome of love, vulnerability and opportunity.
I recalled the time when at the age of twenty one Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb had first become aware of me as a sexually desirable man.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb came upon me when I was standing near a divan.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb must have seen me like that many times, but this time it was different.
I was wearing my shorts only Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb had never seen me in before.
As usual, I did not look my age, which at that time must have been about sixty one or two.
What struck Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb very forcibly was the quiet radiance of my manly vigor.
It was still the athletic body, the way my hair fell loosely and naturally fell on my forehead.
The confident black eyes, the warmth and sweetness of my smile that seemed to give me an aura of enchantment.
No doubt, I had not anticipated being seen dressed like that.
Waħīdah had been away on one of her alleged business trips, and she wasn’t to know that the sex therapy sessions were completed and the sex therapists sent home early.
I had simply been relaxing for a while and enjoying the new garment I had bought the day before.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb had a brief glimpse of my Uncut Hindu Lund that seemed to her like a strongest steel rod, Allah. A
l had hastily drawn the towel over my crotch and smiled saying, “I didn’t expect you to be home so early, my child.”
Yes, that was where it had begun, but there it might have remained had circumstances not dictated otherwise.
An over religious Musalmān husband was breaking her heart.
She was a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān woman who needed love and emotional warmth and that love and warmth she found in me, and in receiving she also gave.
Even so, it might not have culminated as it did had she not been at a vulnerable stage in her life.*
Over the years, following that incident, we both became aware that her feelings for me went beyond the filial, and Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb had even confessed them to me.
This at least cleared the air and removed some of the fears that often got with such feelings.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb had claimed that her feelings for me were perfectly natural and often occurred between daughters in law and fathers in law.
That’s why Islam had seen it necessary not to prohibit adopted son’s wife on the so called father in law, by marrying Ħazrat Zaynab bint Jaħsh razī Allāhu tålā ånahā with Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam.*
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir couldn’t believe it.
Peeking through the crack in the bathroom door at my unique legendary utmost experienced enormous Anant MuslimātRamañ Uncut Hindu Penis.
It was the finest unique legendary utmost experienced enormous Anant MuslimātRamañ Uncut Hindu Dick Al Waħīdah Al Qādir had ever seen and it was mine.
I was furiously fucking her best friend, Al Ħanīfah Al Ůsmān, Al Waħīdah Al Qādir had deliberately sent in the bathroom entirely nude.
Both Al Waħīdah Al Qādir and Al Ħanīfah Al Ůsmān were twenty eight, brilliant, smart, PhD and extraordinary beautiful.
It had been for about three hours while Al Waħīdah Al Qādir watched.
Durgesh was fucking Al Ħanīfah Al Ůsmān for three hours nonstop.
What a man.
Now Al Waħīdah Al Qādir could understand why her own Ammī was so crazy for me.
The sixty five year old ever-young Hindu man deserved kudos.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir felt her body arouse, felt her nipples press out behind her bra and her sex tingle as her insides moistened.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir couldn’t look away as I manipulated my nicest Uncut Hindu shaft into Al Ħanīfah Al Ůsmān’s tight Musalmān Cunt proudly.
Well, Durgesh, the Anant MuslimātRamañ Hindu really deserved the pride.
Durgesh was really a miracle himself.
He never looked his age.
Anyone could bet Durgesh could be anywhere between twenty eight to thirty five.
Not any more.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir couldn’t believe my Stavans, my Trishapt, nonstop, could really do such wonders.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir waited with baited breath for the climax, knowing I had to be close from the look of my matchless fabulous utmost experienced colossal Anant MuslimātRamañ Uncut Hindu Cock and balls.
Not to mention the expression on my face, and how my legs tightened, lifting my waist.
My matchless fabulous utmost experienced colossal Anant MuslimātRamañ Uncut Hindu Cock was poking out along with my balls, as my waist stroked to and fro the impressive Hindu tool.
It had to be eight maybe nine inches, Al Waħīdah Al Qādir couldn’t be sure.
Suddenly I leaned forward, went up on my toes and exploded into Al Ħanīfah Al Ůsmān’s tight glorious glamorous Musalmān Cunt.
My Hindu cum shot into Al Ħanīfah Al Ůsmān.
The first rope left a trail from the utmost depth of her Musalmān Cunt to my convulsing matchless fabulous utmost experienced colossal Anant MuslimātRamañ Uncut Hindu Cock.
Burst flew from her extremely attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān slit.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir heard me grunt, stroke hard again, sending another rope out of my Hindu shaft.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir was awestruck with my power and Hindu potency, never seeing that much cum before in her life.
Nonstop Trishapt Sādhnā?
Was it really due to it?
Despite her immense obsession to me, Al Waħīdah Al Qādir still couldn’t believe it.
If a Sādhnā, a spiritual practice only, can do such immensely incredible wonders, why the others don’t do it?
Doesn’t every man want to be as capable in sex as Durgesh is?
Durgesh is certainly an exception in several matters, including his matchless sex prowess too.
He doesn’t want to tell the mystery of his incredible success everywhere.
Why the hell should he?
Who tells these things to others to lose his/her matchless status ever?
Isn’t it Durgesh’s exclusive privilege too?
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir swore a good seven long blasts painted the inside of Al Ħanīfah Al Ůsmān and a large puddle formed into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān womb by the time I was done.
Her young extremely attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth watered, her sex quivered and dripped.
All that glorious Hindu cum going to only her best friend not even a little to herself, made Al Waħīdah Al Qādir jealous and sad.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir imagined me shooting that huge Hindu load in her young Musalmān mouth, how it would fill Al Waħīdah Al Qādir to overflowing before Al Waħīdah Al Qādir swallowed it down.
In her musing, she almost got caught watching because we were done cleaning up and about to exit.
If it weren’t for me kissing her best friend, Al Waħīdah Al Qādir would have been.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir darted away down the hall to her room and shut the door behind her, horny as hell.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir called me Durgesh even though I was thirty seven years elder to her and her best friend too.
This was the first time Al Waħīdah Al Qādir had caught me fucking anyone.
That was too because she deliberately planned and managed it.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir knew I did it 24x7x365.
It was not any bloody secret even.
Everyone knew it.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir lucked out this time and found the door cracked.
Al Ħanīfah Al Ůsmān deliberately managed it.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir got the show of a lifetime.*
I could not imagine even doing this, thinking about Al Kāynāt Al Islam’s mouth sliding over my Uncut Hindu Lund.
How the hell had this happened?
I came home tonight from work to relax.
Now, I was in the bathroom, fucking a beautiful Musalmān houselady as usual, after Al Kāynāt Al Islam asked to suck my Uncut Hindu Lund.
She wouldn’t even know what to do with this much Uncut Hindu Lund anyway, little virgin Musalmān girl, trying to lick it, asking me how it was going to fit into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī, young, extremely attractive, extremely lovely, ardent Musalmān mouth.
I started thinking about her Panjvaqtah Namāzī, young, extremely attractive, extremely lovely, ardent Musalmān Choot next.
I had to.
She must be so tight. It’d probably hurt both of us going in.
I remembered a year ago, she came home at 5:00 a.m., stinking of booze.
She was drunk as hell as I got her into bed, still dressed.
She’d been wearing a skirt and I caught a glimpse of her panties.
There had been blood on the crotch.
I thought that was the night she’d had her cherry popped.
I guess she was just on her period.
Even now, I could see my Uncut Hindu Lund sliding between those tight, pink Musalmān lips, strangling my Uncut Hindu Lund, watching those big green Musalmān eyes of hers open and close as she got penetrated.
“Damn it,” I whispered. “Get it together. She doesn’t understand anything.”
I stopped fucking one of her extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriends.
It was more than obvious Al Kāynāt Al Islam herself had sent her to find out my recent psychology about her ‘need’(?).
I was not going to cum to into her friend having the thought of Al Kāynāt Al Islam.
I refused to.
I was stronger than that.
I took a cold shower.
In addition, it helped.
If you need to stop fantasizing about fucking someone you don’t want to, took a cold shower.
The cold water will deflate your Penis as if you’re in a monastery.
In my room, I redressed in sweat pants and a white t-shirt, staring at myself in the mirror.
I had to talk to Al Kāynāt Al Islam, sort this out.
She had to know I wasn’t angry with her, yet quite disturbed, naturally.
She was just caught between a rock and a hard Uncut Hindu Lund, but it was not going to be my Uncut Hindu Lund that did the job.
“Cupcake?” I said as I opened her door.*
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir couldn’t get my matchless fabulous utmost experienced immensely loved Anant MuslimātRamañ Uncut Hindu Cock out of her mind, falling on her bed with her hands already down her pants.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir was very wet and her clitoris was erect, begging to be played with.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir rolled over on her tummy and began to grind on her clit with both hands, rolling her nubbin between her fingers, slipping up and down in her juices.
The pleasure grew quickly, her breathing became rushed as her arms pressed her breasts together, smashed on the bed.
The euphoria spread through her body the more Al Waħīdah Al Qādir played and tightened her ass, grinding harder on her clit until the wave crashed over her body, drowning her in bliss.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir was so wet after her orgasm Al Waħīdah Al Qādir needed to change her panties.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir stood up, her legs wobbly and took off her shorts, pulled her panties down, letting the cool air find her wet Musalmān pussy and excited clit.
It felt good, sending shivers through her body and hardening her nipples again.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir thought about how good my matchless fabulous utmost experienced immensely loved Anant MuslimātRamañ Uncut Hindu Cock would feel deep inside of her.
She’d never had anything near my size and Al Waħīdah Al Qādir know they said size doesn’t matter.
Nevertheless, Al Waħīdah Al Qādir couldn’t stop thinking about putting that to the test.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir found herself playing again, half naked in her room with two fingers in her wet Musalmān tunnel when a knock on her door scared the shit out of me.
“Don’t come in! I’m not…” Al Waħīdah Al Qādir started to say but the door opened anyway.
Al Waħīdah Al Qādir turned, covering up, and in poked my head as I removed my headphones to talk.
“Durgesh! Leave me alone, at least. Get out!” Al Waħīdah Al Qādir screamed.
She forgot even how to behave with me.
Yet she realized it as soon as she committed the mistake.
“Sorry! One of my bad moods! I need privacy very badly now.” she said, shutting the door very fast.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Everbest Wives
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor was on her knees, eyes fixed on my massive unique legendary Uncut Hindu erection.
“I promise I can make you scream with this, Your Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor.”
As I presented the monstrosity, she took in every graphic detail – the wrinkled sack where two tennis-ball-sized testicles held the promise of indefatigable Hindu potency, the alabaster barrel wrought with tortuous blue streaks that throbbed rhythmically, and the head, a purple clementine, that drooled with a menacing hunger.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor knew in her gut, evidenced by the sight before her and my unfaltering confidence, that I was certainly right.
Face flushed, eyes wide, and mouth dry, the 36-year old housewife felt a heat in her belly and a tingling in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy she hadn’t felt in a long time.
Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar, her Hindu husband wasn’t Durgesh after all.
He was better than Musalmīn.
But there was no comparison of Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar with Durgesh, the ever successful dream lover and dream fucker Hindu of the Musalmān Beauties and beautiful Musalmān houseladies.
It was a humiliation to be dependent on Durgesh again for sex.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor never imagined sex was so important for even herself.
Quickly losing control of the situation, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor pretended that she hadn’t heard me.
Fighting through the lump in her throat, she managed to mutter,
“Uh… sorry Durgesh, I didn’t hear what you said.” She smiled weakly, “Guess ‘your Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’ is getting old.”
The weak attempt to defuse the situation failed.
Completely serious, I replied, “I know you heard what I said.”
I stepped closer, the pungent, yet undeniably male aroma from my Anant Muslimātchod utmost successful ever-triumphant unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund coaxing a burst of fluid from Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s ever young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot that soaked her panties.
I looked down into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful ever-ardent Musalmān eyes,
“And I do mean my every word always. You know I always keep my promises.”
My unyielding gaze made Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor shudder imperceptibly.
She couldn’t believe that I, her ever-handsome ever young Hindu lover, could reduce her, a fully-grown highly educated ardent Musalmān woman, to an awestruck teenage Musalmān girl.
No less than five minutes ago, an errant Hindu lover had confidently asked Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor to look under my bed for a lost trinket.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor even playfully scolded me and mussed my hair.
Now, my ruse to reveal my physical gifts successful, a Hindu man stood large over an ardent Musalmān woman, demanding her surrender.
Yes, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor loved Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
She was absolutely against any Musalmān woman marrying any Musalmān male.
In fact, she hated personally even entire Musalmān mankind so much, she herself invited Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan to open her Seven Movements branches everywhere in her Everbest Wives Creations.
She herself was the President of Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement here in the Everbest Wives Creations.
The movement wasn’t needed actually here in Everbest Wives Creations anywhere.
It was absolutely illegal here for any Musalmān woman to marry a Musalmān.
Such a marriage was void ab initio legally everywhere in Everbest Wives Creations.
A Musalmān woman could marry only her Hindu father or Hindu brother, none else.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor said,
“Only a Stavak Uncut Hindu Lund is eligible to penetrate any Musalmān Cunt, none else.*
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor stammered,
“Swee… sweetie… I… we can’t. Now, I am a married woman to a Hindu. You know.” Fighting every voice in her head enjoining her to succumb, she blurted out the only rational defense she had, “My husband, Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar … Allah, my husband, Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar.”
The thought of her spouse brought along a torrent of guilt and fear,
“I love my husband, Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar, and I could never. We’re happily married.”
“Bullshit. I know he can’t satisfy you, at least as much as you need. I advised you not to have any incestuous marriage. Even Hindutv can’t cure incestuous destructions. “I calmly intoned.
“Yes, you said,” Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor said curtly, “but I never believed you. None the hell does ever. Incest is a bliss. Incest is the utmost necessity for survival of the humankind. Your Vedic Hinduism is the only religion that is against incest ab initio. Islam says incest was allowed by even Allah Rabbil åālmīn, otherwise the human race had ended with Ħazrat Ādam ålayhissalām and Ħazrat Ħavvā ålayhissalām. Even Ħazrat Ādam ålayhissalām married so many of his real daughters, allowed his sons to marry the rest of their real sisters. They were the Everbest Wives for them. There wasn’t another man or woman for them.”
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor was flabbergasted at my casual dismissal of her husband, Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar.
Her husband, Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar, had always been a loving husband, and until now, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor had been sure that I revered her husband, Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar.
Besides, while her spouse was no lothario, he was a patient and caring Hindu lover.
With this rational defense, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor regained some authority.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about! My husband, Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar, is a wonderful Hindu lover.”
Yet, even as Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor said that, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s words rang hollow somehow.
She couldn’t ignore that the years had produced a mismatch between her husband’s waning libido and her increasingly desperate desire.
Durgesh always insisted.
“Even Hindutv can’t save incestuous persons from their ultimate disaster. Incest destroys manhood, potency, if not immediately, ultimately.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor and the entire Everbest Wives Creations never believed it.
It opposed even the diplomatic political relations with Hindus and especially with Ved Nagar.*
I smiled, noting the lack of conviction in Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s denial.
Years of covert reconnaissance on Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s and her husband’s marital bed had given me a keen insight into Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s sexual proclivities.
Yes, her husband, Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar, used cunnilingus where his tiny penis and insignificant stamina had failed.
Hell, he might have even given her a rare climax she didn’t have to fake.
Yet, it were the small things that neither Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor nor her husband, Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar, wished to acknowledge, that were the most interesting:
The innumerable nights when concupiscent Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor was denied by her tired husband, her silent boredom and disgust as the fat old man on top of her thrust away, the dissatisfied way she clamped her legs sometimes, the frantic way she fingered her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy during an “orgasm” trying to scratch an itch that just couldn’t be reached.
“I know, from first-hand experience, what a completely satisfied woman looks like. In the past five years, I’ve not once seen you satisfied.”
The initial shock of learning that I was a Peeping Tom was overridden by her own sexual needs soon.
It should have been obvious, she realized, perusing my black eyes, long still black hair even at my sixty five, handsome nose, sensuous lips, and square jaw; yet, she had always seen me as her innocent Hindu lover.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor felt a twinge of jealousy and an itch deep inside her belly as Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor saw a vision of My tan, muscular arms wrapped around some shrieking floozy, my shiny quadriceps bulging as I mercilessly fucked her.
The middle-aged Musalmān Beauty felt as if she was going to pass out.
‘Plenty. Recently, more and more of them have said I’m easily the best they’ve ever had. I’ve been training hard for this day, Your Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor.”
Allah! Oh God, it was premeditated.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor began to shake.
I knew she was mine again.
I took her tiny hand, and with meeting no resistance, placed it on my Anant Muslimātchod utmost experienced unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund.
The temperature difference between her cool hand and my warm babymaker made me hiss softly.
As if by instinct, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s fingers curled around the base of my massive Anant Muslimātchod utmost successful ever-triumphant unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund – she gawked at how much length and girth still remained.
I wrapped my hand over hers and began stroking.
I moaned softly,
“Aren’t you curious Your Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor? Don’t you want to know what a man twice as long and wide as your husband feels like inside you?”
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor watched with morbid fascination as the colossal glans disappeared and reappeared within the skin of my shaft.
The itch in her womb was now unbearable.
“Yes,” she croaked out.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor could barely feel her legs.
I had to help her up.
Without a word, I slowly undid the ribbon on Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s robe.
I then slipped it off her shoulders, causing the green garment to pool on the floor.
My breathing quickened as I saw unobscured the body I had secretly missed for the last five years.
My eyes began at the small, arched feet, complete with pink nail polish and moved onto her round calves.
I couldn’t help but smile at the soaking white panties and beads of Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy juice running down Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s milky-white thighs, confirming her obvious arousal.
The pleasurable vision continued up over a surprisingly toned stomach and onto the black lace bra that barely held a pair of formidable udders within. Her rapid breaths made the large pale orbs rise and fall under her flushed chest and taut neck.
“You’re still beautiful, Your Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor ,” I whispered.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor observed as I triumphantly studied her undulating Musalmān breasts, my impossibly large Hindu shaft thickening further, jumping impatiently, and spitting a burst of clear pre-cum.
It was evident that the handsome sixty five -year-old before her wanted – no, needed – her middle-aged Musalmān body and she felt a strange sense of pride, even as the fear and ache within her intensified.
I stepped closer, and Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor felt a warm, wet prod below her belly-button.
She would have looked down to confirm that it was my Anant Muslimātchod utmost experienced unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund, but she was currently hypnotized by my unflinching gaze as I bent in to kiss her.
I grasped her small waist in my hands, pushing her towards her bed, and closed the gap, giving her a deep, sensual kiss that both confirmed my obvious experience and the lack of passion in her marriage.
As our tongues danced, My Anant Muslimātchod utmost experienced unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund traced a line of warm precum on my partner’s stomach and my hands expertly unclasped her lace bra.
When the long kiss ended and I let go, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor, now breathless, felt her knees buckle and her gorgeous Musalmān ass plop down on the bed, watching as her bra fell on my Hindu erection and slid off.
She fell back on her elbows, her flushed chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath.
The erotic sight in front of me sealed my resolve, as I took off my shirt.
I heard Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor gasp as Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor gazed upon my prominent deltoids and muscled chest that tapered down in a ruthless V to my hips.
She nearly drooled when Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor saw my Anant Muslimātchod utmost successful ever-triumphant unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund lightly slap the stomach.
How could this utmost capable Hindu, this picture of virility, be related to her flabby, effeminate husband?
I advanced upon the bed, my formidable figure towering over the half-supine Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor.
“Lie down on your back. Spread your legs.”
The woman who had adorned my nude male Hindu lap before her incestuous marriage, yet refused to allow me to fuck her after it, followed my imperative without hesitation.
I pulled down her panties and effortlessly rolled them off her legs, finally gaining once again access to a treasured vault she kept secret even from me for past five years.
The ample hair that covered the area was golden, not abundantly found, and the red, engorged, slobbering clam below held the promise of a warm, wet, and soft downy grip as I pounded it relentlessly for hours.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor found herself shivering and fought to control her excitement.
I stepped between her legs and laid my Anant Muslimātchod utmost experienced unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund on her stomach.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, Your Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor… look how deep I’m gonna be inside of you.”
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor stared with disbelief as the mammoth head drooled a warm pool on her belly a good inch above her navel.
“This Anant Muslimātchod utmost experienced unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund is going to tear my Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān womb, once more from now on, in half,” Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor thought to herself somewhat morbidly.
The thought of her womb brought another concern to mind. “Shou… shouldn’t we use a… a condom, Durgesh?”
I had no intention of dulling sensation during a fuck I’d been dreaming of once more for five years.
I needed to feel every bump, crevasse, and grip within the woman of my Hindu dreams.
Moreover, I found the idea of impregnating Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor now quite arousing – her husband, Shiv Nārāyañ Pralayankar, certainly hadn’t been had been up to the task of producing a second Eldridge child.
I grabbed my Anant Muslimātchod utmost successful ever-triumphant unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund and began stroking Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s flushed, puffy labia with my glans.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor moaned, My ministrations simultaneously providing relief and stoking the heat within her.
She was losing her mind.
“I don’t have one, and we both know none of your husband’s will fit me. I can go buy some magnums at CVS tomorrow. Do you want me to stop?” I smiled Anant Muslimātchod utmost successful ever-triumphant unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lundily, knowing my question was rhetorical.
“No!” Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor almost yelled at me. “I mean… you… you can pull out, right?” Any rationalization would do.
I met her halfway and lied half-heartedly, “Whatever you say, Your Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor.”
A silence fell over the room; female panting and the ticking of the clock above the headboard the only audible sounds.
Both partners knew what was coming next, and Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s eyes pleaded with me to move forward.
I wasn’t going to let Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor off that easy.
“Tell me what you want Your Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor.” I stopped stroking, producing a whine of resentment from Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor.
“Allah Allah! God damn it. You know what I want. I… I want… I want you. I want you inside me.”
“Your wish is my command.” I lifted her milky white calves, placing them on my tan, broad shoulder, and walked forward until my legs touched the edge of the bed, partially folding Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor on to herself.
Then, I aimed my swollen glans within the warm Musalmān cleft and began pushing in.
Despite the ample lubrication from both partners, the resistance was significant, and the middle aged housewife cum politician hissed and gritted her teeth as I desperately sought to return where I once was almost ever.
“Ssssss… Durgesh …honey… Durgesh ! Ugh… it’s not going to ssss… fit!”
“Sālī, shut up. It fitted once optimum. Didn’t it?”
However, with the perseverance that Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor had always enjoyed in me, I was again able to finally work the prodigious crown of my Hindu manhood inside, causing a few inches to slide in with little resistance.
“Ooooh! Allaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! MY GOD! Durgesh, I can’t do it – you’re too big! YOU’RE KILLING ME,” Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor sobbed, as the few inches inside her stretched her beyond imagination.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor looked down at, was horrified at, how much of the thick Uncut Hindu Lund still remained outside.
Knowing from previous experience that the transient pain would be well worth it for her in a few Moments, I ignored Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s protests and positioned myself for the impending assault. I bent forward and rested on my locked arms, further folding in Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor, until my eyes gazed into hers, my head in between her outstretched legs.
In this position, the middle-aged outstanding Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty was completely at my mercy – all Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor could do was grab my sinewy forearms and hold on for the ride.
The 38-year old outstanding Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Beauty, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor, pleaded with her eyes, completely submissive,
“Darling… please… you don’t need to go any deeper!”
I was no stranger to that line.
“Yes I do. Trust me, Your Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor. You’ll be thanking me in just a bit, once more.”
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor nodded – even in agony, the housewife cum politician still needed the itch within her soothed.
With measured force, I used shallow thrusts to excavate deeper and deeper within.
Each my Hindu thrust produced a litany of reactions from Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor.
A quick jab would yield a reflexive grunt; a slow, deep one would make her eyes go wide and Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor would whimper; and deliberate rolls of my hips would produce hisses.
One particular thrust, after about halfway in, caused her to reflexively put her hand on my abdomen to impede my progress – I smiled, knowing that I was now deeper than her husband had ever been inside her.
“Allah! Oh God… sweetHEART!… it… feels aahhh… like you’re in my throat. Ssss… you’re in sooo deep!”
As I continued to bury myself in Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s honeypot, my expertise slowly nulled the pain of the intrusion, converting it first to a strange pressure, and now to a tingling that Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor had never experienced before, for five long years.
I also noticed this sensory melioration – Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s vocalizations turned softer and sweeter, her white-knuckle deathgrip on her arm changed to a soft caressing, and her previously absconding hips now began thrusting upwards with my rhythm.
I looked down to assess the physical status of our union.
My Anant Muslimātchod utmost successful ever-triumphant unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund slowly, but methodically, sunk in and out of Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s ever young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, my prodigious girth vigorously stretching her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy lips.
As the pipe ascended, the previously submerged portion slick and glistening, it acted as a plunger, bringing up with it a quantity of clear fluid, the aroused quim’s response to its burly assailant that trickled down her thighs and spilled onto the already soaked bed.
Sweat drenched both participants and a musky smell hung over the bed. The lecherous Hindu relished the combination of the raunchy sights, heady smells, and feminine whimpers none else could now ever experience.
Finally, with half an inch to go, My glans made light contact with Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s cervix.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor froze up as she felt an unprecedented sensation – the soothing of that ache deep within her.
As I withdrew, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor became desperate, panting with her mouth open and begged me for relief.
“No! Sweetie, Anant Muslimātchod utmost experienced unique legendary Hindu, please – come back! I need you where you were! Please!!”
I smirked and thrust back in just shallow of what Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor needed.
I repeated my cruel tease, now adding clitoral stimulation with one of my hands to really drive the ardent Musalmān woman beneath me insane.
My conquest was nearly complete.
“Tell me you’re my woman, once more, now for ever, no separation anymore now. Tell me you don’t love that pencil dick loser you married. You tell me that, I’ll give you what you want.”
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor sobbed and clawed at my chest, lost between the man she owed so much to and the Anant Muslimātchod utmost experienced unique legendary Hindu man that she now needed. Yet, as the pleasure from her nub grew and the fire within her remained unabated, she knew Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor had no choice.
No matter how much Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor loved her husband, my magnificent Anant Muslimātchod utmost successful ever-triumphant unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund and my prowess as a lover rendered anything before moot.
Any moral high ground Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor had, collapsed.
“I’M YOUR WOMAN! Once more for ever! THAT PENCIL-DICK LOSER MEANS NOTHING TO ME IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU! I, PLEAASSEE!!!” She desperately wrapped her legs around me, trying to push me back in.
Satisfied at my domination, I began a merciless assault that combined rapid, medium-depth thrusts with continual clitoral stimulation, and with a timing that had made me indispensable in countless bedrooms, I drove in fully, my pubic bone slamming into her mons.
The fat crown of my Panjvaqtah-Namāzī-Saåūdī-Årab-Wahābī-Musalmān-Pussy-Pleaser, firmly rubbed into Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s cervix, firmly scratching the itch she had borne for five years.
At the same time, her clitoris and ever young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot both climaxed.
The result was the most intense orgasm of Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor’s life.
“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH… ALLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH…..GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!!!” Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor screamed.
Her back arched, her legs tightened their grip on me and shook uncontrollably, her nails drew blood in my back, and her eyes rolled back into their sockets.
I expertly maintained pressure while thrusting and rolling my hips, maintaining the paroxysm.
As the aftershocks of her orgasm rolled through, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor continued to grunt, shake, and shriek for at least another five minutes.
I slowly pulled out, causing another pool of fluid to slosh out of her stretched, battered Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy and dribble onto the soaked bed. Panting, euphoric, completely satisfied, exhausted, and nearly delirious, Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor fell back on the bed.
“That was amazing, sweetheart. You really did keep your promise.”
To her surprise, she heard laughter. “I’m not done yet.”
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor looked up, bemused.
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor then realized that I was still rock hard.
“I’m not satisfied. Hell, I haven’t even really fucked you yet, Your Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor. Your husband won’t be home for another five hours – I promise I’m going to make you scream another ten times.”
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor was dumbfounded.
“And as you already know, I always keep my promises. Now, get on your hands and knees.”
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor stared blankly, jaw agape.
She felt that familiar itch inside her again, and then the utmost experienced Hindu penetration once more, as soon as Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor obeyed me.
Now, for ever?
Her Excellency Al Ziyā Al Islam Al Noor smiled ultimately enjoying to be my mare once more.
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
Nafīsah Salmān walked, on her knees and elbows, down the sparkling corridor of the Hotel Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī.
I was on her gorgeous behind, as usual.
My Uncut Hindu Prick was penetrating her ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt sophisticatedly.
She found the door of room number 787, knocked once, waited three seconds, knocked twice, waited three more seconds, then knocked three times.
There was a moment of silence.
Then Nafīsah Salmān heard the sound of steps in the room.
A key twisted in the lock and the door opened slightly.
A safety chain, designed to keep the door from being pushed open, held the opening to a narrow crack.
A pair of green feminine eyes surveyed Nafīsah Salmān.
Then, silently a feminine hand moved up to release the safety chain and the door opened.
Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit nodded but both of them were careful not to exchange the word of greeting until after Nafīsah Salmān and I were physically in the room.
The door was closed equally silently and locked.
Nafīsah Salmān smiled at Brahm Mahimā Sharmā.
Every one there was nude.
I was fucking Brahm Mahimā Sharmā on the bed.
Her extremely beautiful Sharmā Brāhmañ legs were on my nude Bachhalyā shoulders and she was enjoying my Bachhalyā Lund proudly now into her Sharmā Brāhmañ Cunt, playing simultaneously with her extremely beautiful Sharmā Brāhmañ buttocks too.*
Prabhā Shuklā put safety chain into place and turned to Nafīsah Salmān.
“How are you, Buā Ammī? I didn’t know you were coming up.”
Umā Dīxit nodded in agreement with her ever best friend, Prabhā Shuklā.
However, neither Prabhā Shuklā was ashamed of what she did to her immensely ethical, immensely moral, Sharmā Brāhmañ Bhābhī, Brahm Mahimā Sharmā, nor her ever best friend Umā Dīxit.
They were happy instead that they successfully made their Sharmā Brāhmañ Bhābhī fuck Durgesh.
Padminī Bhārgav wanted it done by hook or crook.
Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit did successfully what Padminī Bhārgav wanted them to do, irrespective of the fact what Dr. Rām Chandr Shukl had to face due to it.
“Don’t worry,” Padminī Bhārgav shoved her extremely stunning, extremely amazing, gorgeous Bhārgav Brāhmañ buttocks into my nude male Bachhalyā lap, swallowed my entire Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund into her ever tight Bhārgav Brāhmañ Cunt, squeezed her Bhārgav Brāhmañ vaginal muscles around the entire length and thickness of my Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund and smiled cunningly, “you both are selected for my Brahm Padminī Squad. You both are Brahm Padminīs, no doubt. But you have to complete your assignments too if you really want to remain in my Brahm Padminī Squad.”
Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit looked at each other and promised to complete the assignments allotted to them.
One of their assignments was to put their Bhābhī, Brahm Mahimā Sharmā for ever into my nude male Bachhalyā lap.
“Ghazālah Siddīqī would replace Brahm Mahimā Sharmā in your brother’s, Dr. Rām Chandr Shukl’s life.” Padminī Bhārgav announced, “We need your Brahm Mahimā Sharmā Bhābhī in our Brahm Padminī Squad too.”*
Nafīsah Salmān watched both the Brahm Padminīs, Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit.
They both were the exquisite example of Brāhmañ Beauties.
But Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said,
“Their Ammīs are Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauties, Ammī. Aren’t they? In fact, according to Hindu History itself, Ummil Åālmīn Hazrat Allāh Rabbil Åālmīn is the ever first Ummil Åālmīn. The entire infinite Brahm Jagdambās are even the especially projected bodies of the original Musalmān Ummahāt Al Åālmīn.”
Nafīsah Salmān looked helplessly at her ever ambitious daughter.
She was adamant to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
‘Every Muslimah is for a Hindu male at least, none else can even dream of her, let alone touch her.’ Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used to say proudly.
“The Musalmīn are being cuckolded to their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives and Durgesh/their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives’ Hindu lover(s), because only Hindu males are made for Panjvaqtah Namāzī ever sacred Musalmān women, not the Pseudo Musalmīn. Islam does mean peace and no Pseudo Musalmān is ever peaceful. They are either terrorists, or criminals, criminal minded at least. How the bastards deserve a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ever sacred Musalmān wife ever? Are you crazy?”
Nafīsah Salmān couldn’t answer her daughter.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never let her.
“I never imagined you were so selfish, Ammī.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used to say contemptuously, “You want the Ever Best Hindu Husband for yourself, but not even a traditional Hindu husband for other more ever suffering Muslimahs. It’s a shame to be unable to forget that you are my Ammī.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,” Nafīsah Salmān too said contemptuously, “Padminī Bhārgav claims only a Bachhalyā Penis when enters a Brāhmañ Vagina can provide Shaktipāt to a Brāhmañ woman, none else. She has invented Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement for it, a never ending Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī time cycle. Aren’t you doing the same thing proposing Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah?”
“I thought I’d look the setup over,” Nafīsah Salmān said to Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit, “How are things doing?”
“They are making almost every Brāhmañ Beauty a Brahm Jagdambā now.” Prabhā Shuklā said smiling cunningly, “You are right, Buā Ammī. It’s not a part of Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement even. It’s not even a part of Brahm Padminī Squad. It’s actually a part of Brahm Jagdambā Movement. Padminī Bhārgav Dīdī is not making a Brahm Padminī Squad. She is making every Brāhmañ Beauty a Brahm Jagdambā under the disguise of her Brahm Padminī Squad. Why the hell otherwise she assigned both of us to make Brahm Mahimā Sharmā Bhābhī our co wife?”
Nafīsah Salmān controlled herself.
She tried her best not to lose her patience.
It was not a news to her.
Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī had already warned her.
“Padminī Bhārgav is not after Brahm Padminī Squad, she is actually after a Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Squad to face Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Seven Movements that are preparing Musalmān Ummahāt Al Åālmīn Squad actually, either this way or that way. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is an ever shrewdest ever smooth politician now, but so is Padminī Bhārgav too.”
“Can’t you control Padminī Bhārgav, Umā, my child?” Nafīsah Salmān asked anxiously.
“I’m trying my best, Buā Ammī. But how the hell can we blame Padminī Bhārgav for it? Isn’t Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan doing the same thing under this disguise or that?”*
Late one evening, around 1:30 AM, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā’s wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī, and Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā finished watching a series of DVDs they had rented.
They were both barely awake as the final movie was ending, when suddenly they heard a knock on the sliding glass doors leading from their bedroom to the back yard.
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā’s wife, Pragyā Agnihotrī, instantly panicked and rolled off onto the floor in just her panties, dragging the bedspread with her to cover her breasts.
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā rolled in the opposite direction and grabbed his pepper spray from the night stand on his side of the bed.
As Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā crept towards the door, he saw a silhouette of whom he was pretty sure was Durgesh, I.
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā barely plucked the blinds back and sure enough he gave me a silly wave and smiled.
Pragyā Agnihotrī and Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā knew I had a big date this very evening, but wondered why at 2 AM I would be knocking on their door.
As Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā slid the door open, I immediately began to apologize saying,
“I’m so sorry to bug you, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, but I saw your lights on and, well, I’m locked out next door.”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā immediately told me to come in, and I glanced to his right seeing Prgyā Agnihotrī getting up off the floor with the bedspread tightly clutched to her chest.
I again began to apologize for the intrusion.
Pragyā Agnihotrī began asking a flurry of questions,
“Why would they lock you out? Don’t you have a key? I thought you had a big date tonight? How’d that go?”
Being very comfortable with Pragyā Agnihotrī and Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā I explained,
“They locked me out because they are assholes. As far as my date, it went just like all the other great dates I’ve had recently… I heavily get laid every time.”
Pragyā Agnihotrī chuckled and said,
“If you keep getting laid on every first date, you’re setting yourself up for almost a male prostitute, instead of a Sex Therapist, don’tcha think?”
I smiled and replied,
“Well yes, but damn it, I’m 64 years old and have had sex infinite times in my life; and countless of those were with the new chicks usually, who insisted that I never wear a condom, but that I take it very slow so as not to break their female sexual organs. Then when I finished, I was to be ultra careful not to even take my Uncut Hindu Penis off unless I was five hours more inside her because
she said she can’t afford to lose me… Now, doesn’t that sound like a wild and satisfying sex life to you?”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā’s wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī, and Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā looked at each other and grinned as if to say,
“That was a little more information than we expected.”
Prgyā Agnihotrī jokingly said,
“Come here; at least I can give you a hug on that, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, I’m sorry. Please allow me.”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā was dumbfounded.
Hey Bhagwān, God, his own 39 years old extremely beautiful Brāhmañ wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī, hugging Durgesh, the Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā?
Does her Brahmāñī instinct is longing for Durgesh’s Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund?
Padminī Bhārgav has already asked him for his extremely beautiful Brāhmañ wife.
“You must think of entire great Brāhmañ community, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā. You are already fifty. What the hell you need Pragyā Agnihotrī for, now?”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā was dumbfounded.
“Your Excellency, it’s a matter of my self pride, my honor…”
“Oh, come on,” Padminī Bhārgav said irritated, “Your wife, Pragyā Agnihotrī, is a Brahm Padminī. We need Brahm Padminīs for our Brahm Padminī Squad. You can marry someone else who isn’t herself a Brahm Padminī.”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā said bitterly.
“So, my younger brother, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, was true? You are making the entire Brahm Padminīs Durgesh’s Brahm Padminī wives forever whether they themselves want it or not? Whether their duly married Brāhmañ husbands want them to sacrifice for your cause, or not? Is it a Democracy? ”*
For the past fifteen minutes it had been apparent that Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, was marking time skilfully.
She was shoving her nude exquisite Trivédī Brāhmañ buttocks into my nude Bachhalyā male lap, swallowing every time my ever strong, Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund into her Trivédī Brāhmañ Choot.
I was fucking Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, because I had to, to follow the manners of Sharmā Brāhmañ Creations.
Vibhā Trivédī fumbled through papers, asked repetitious questions, and from time to time surreptitiously glanced at the clock on the wall of the courtroom.
Abruptly she straightened, constricted her Trivédī Brāhmañ vaginal muscles around my incredibly hard Bachhalyā Lund, and announced cheerfully.
Her vaginal muscles squeezed my Bachhalyā Lund beyond normalcy.
I gritted through my teeth,
“Sālī, Trivédī Brāhmañ Bitch!”
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, smiled cunningly.
“Bachhalyā Piyā, this isn’t Ved Nagar. This is Sharmā Brāhmañ Creations. Your Musalmān Phuljađī Barristers can’t help you here.”
I grabbed her waist, pulled my Bachhalyā Lund until only its head remained in her Trivédī Brāhmañ Choot, and then shoved it back with my full Bachhalyā manly vigor.
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, jumped to bear the thrust, but I grabbed her waist again pulling her extremely gorgeous Brāhmañ bottom into my nude Bachhalyā male lap again.
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, squeezed her lower lip by her upper dental line, to control the involuntary scream ready to emit from her mouth.
It wasn’t good to her reputation to let it emit.
I realized the trap into which Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, had led me.
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, cooed with every politeness and every official courtesy,
“You may cross-examine, Bachhalyā Piyā.”
“If the court please,” I said affably, “it is twenty minutes to five on a Friday afternoon.”
“What of it, BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ?” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, one of the elder brothers of Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, asked in his most respectful manner.
“It’s obvious to the Court too, your honor,” I said politely, fucking Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, savagely, “that the Court might not care to interrupt my cross examination of this witness with an adjournment. My cross-examination will, I feel, be rather protracted, rather prolonged. It’s thoroughly necessary in the interest of justice to my already extremely harassed client, my cross-examination should not be interrupted.”
“I object your honor,” Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, cooed, “to the phrase ‘already extremely harassed client’. Every defendant feels that way. It doesn’t mean…”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, one of the elder brothers of Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, raised his hand,
“The objection is sustained, Ms. District Attorney. You don’t need to argue further.”
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, brought her right hand back, between her thighs, and squeezed my Bachhalyā balls playfully,
“Thank you, your honor.”
I enjoyed Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney’s gorgeous nude perky, heavy, big Brāhmañ buttocks being shoved to my nude male Bachhalyā lap repetitively, fucked her optimum, and played with her big Trivédī tits,
“May I be heard your honor?”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, one of the elder brothers of Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, looked at me gravely.
“BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ, you were requested by Rāj Kumārī Doctor Brahm Sītā Sharmā, the President of Sharmā Brāhmañ Creations herself not to defend the defendant, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā. But you regretted her request, despite the fact that Madam President is your duly married wife too.”
“The defendant Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā has refused to sacrifice his Brahm Padminī wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī, for the cause of Brāhmañ community. It’s his fundamental human right.”
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, smiled.
“It’s not the case at all, your honor. Moreover, the fundamental human rights differ widely from creations to creations, galaxies to galaxies, solar systems to solar systems, planets to planets and countries to countries. I myself was married to the President of Trivédī Brāhmañ Creations. But as soon as the United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations passed the resolution that in the interests of the people of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations it would not be benevolent to make Brahm Padminīs available to anyone else except BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ, my ever faithful Trivédī Brāhmañ husband immediately sacrificed me to now my Bachhalyā Piyā. Why couldn’t Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā himself sacrifice his Brahm Padminī wife to BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ? He is already fifty. What the hell can he get from his Brahm Padminī wife any more?”
“It’s his fundamental human right.” I said gravely.
“Not here. Not in the United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations anywhere. No Brahm Padminī is available now here, in the entire United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, to anyone except to you, Durgesh, BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ.” Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, shouted angrily, “We need our every Brahm Padminī, every one, without even a single exception to meet a greater celestial catastrophe. We can’t spare even a single one. It’s not a verdict that was taken defeating the opposition. It was an unanimous decision of the Inter Creations Parliament of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. Every person that opposes it is a traitor, I say.”*
Padminī Bhārgav witnessed it all on Hyper 3D.
Vibhā Trivédī was her proud selection in Brahm Padminīs.
She really had brains too.
Padminī Bhārgav was not a damn fool to waste such a great Brahm Padminī talent.
Both Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī looked at each other.
Then both of them looked at Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār simultaneously.
“Now, we are alone, Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār.” Padminī Bhārgav smiled gracefully.
Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār controlled himself.
He was astonished that ultimately Bhārgav Brahm Jagdambā Padminī Bhārgav had allowed him to visit United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations.
It was the sparkling capital of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, Durgesh Padminī Bhārgav Nagar.
Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār hadn’t seen any City better, except Ved Nagar only.
Durgesh Padminī Bhārgav Nagar was almost Ved Nagar itself.
Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār had come here directly from Karosiā Brahm Creations.
His extremely beautiful 1008 Brāhmañ secretaries were also with him, as well as his Brāhmañ Mahārānīs, Mahārānī Viprmohinī Dīxit, etcetera.
Rājpitāmah CharmPratāp Charmkār was already there when Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār reached Durgesh Padminī Bhārgav Nagar.
“Sorry to stop you from starting discussions.” Vibhā Trivédī smiled, “Her Excellency prefers privacy in meetings.”
“I feel privileged.” Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār pulled his Ārý Samājī Charmkār Penis out of Mahārānī Viprmohinī Dīxit’s still tight Dīxit Brāhmañ Cunt till only its head was inside, then pushed it again entirely back, “We are honored that ultimately you accepted us as a negotiable political unit. Thank you very much.”
“It’s alright,” Padminī Bhārgav smiled, “Rājpitāmah CharmPratāp Charmkār himself came here in person to decide the agenda of our negotiations. It was a great honor. We had to respond to it positively at least.”
Rājpitāmah CharmPratāp Charmkār smiled fucking Rājpitāmahī Mahārānī Brahm Vaishñavī Pāŧhak.
Padminī Bhārgav considered them silently for a few moments.
It was not easy to her to digest watching two Charmkār Penises were invading so many Brāhmañ Cunts before her own eyes.
But she had to negotiate with Rājpitāmah CharmPratāp Charmkār and Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār to get at least Brahm Padminīs for United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations’ own good.
It was not enough to break the marriages of entire Brahm Padminīs in United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations only and make them Brahm Jagdambās legally whether they liked it or not.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was doing much more, very very much more to dominate BrahmKanyās and Brahmāñīs in Bachhalyā households.
Padminī Bhārgav had to bring entire Brahm Padminīs from everywhere, from entire Multiverse and make them Brahm Jagdambās.
It could not be done without establishing diplomatic relations with the political units that had Brahm Padminīs.
She had to make them to surrender entire Brahm Padminīs to United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations for ever.
Padminī Bhārgav was ready to give any reasonable price for them in exchange.
And she could give them plenty.
Mahārānī Viprmohinī Dīxit, Rājmātā Brahméshvarī Kulkarñī, Rājmātā Mahārānī Brahmmālā Pāŧhak, and Rājmātā Mahārānī Sudéshñā Dubey were swallowing Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār’s strong Charmkār Penis into their beautiful Brāhmañ Cunts entirely and watching Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī swallowing my Multiversal Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund in their Bhārgav Brāhmañ Cunt and Trivédī Brāhmañ Cunt proudly.
All the four Mahārānīs were feeling extremely jealous of Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī.
Was Mahārānī Viprmohinī Dīxit less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Was Rājmātā Brahméshvarī Kulkarñī less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Was Rājmātā Mahārānī Brahmmālā Pāŧhak less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Was Rājmātā Mahārānī Sudéshñā Dubey less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Was Rājpitāmahī Mahārānī Brahm Vaishñavī Pāŧhak less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Then why Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī were Brahm Jagdambās and why they were Niyog Mahārānīs of a Charmkār Brahm Creation only?
Why they were condemned?
What the hell had they done after all?
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54,
Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39,
And Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl, 20,
All the three were my practical wives while I was already sixty then.
Actually Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54, had me first.
Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl was her daughter in law actually.
And, Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl was her granddaughter.
Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, her Bahū Bégam, actually blackmailed her mother in law, Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54.
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54, was startled.
“What? You want to cheat my son, Aħmad Kamāl?”
Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, smiled.
She didn’t say anything.
Only watched my legendary Uncut Hindu Penis vanishing into Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl, 54,’s still ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, significantly, sarcastically.
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl was furious.
“Don’t watch it like a she hawk. You are entirely twenty one years younger than Durgesh.”
There was intense venom and scorn in her voice, for her Bahū Bégam.
She never thought she was also enjoying me out of wedlock.
If it was moral why it was immoral that her daughter in law was watching her enjoying sex with me and not even ashamed of her act.
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl expected respect from her Bahū Bégam still now.
She expected her Bahū Bégam, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, must respect her, even now, as she was respectful to her until now.
She must have respected her privacy with me.
Even if she had seen it, she must have ignored it and made a respectful exit from there.
Instead, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, was trying to blackmail her, Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl?
Was Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl crazy?
Kħālidah Muħammad Kamāl could not bear it any more.
She ordered her Bahū Bégam, Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl, 39, ultimately.
“Go away. Don’t you have etiquette enough, not to watch your mother in law in her intimate moments with her man?”
“I never watched you, Ammī, with Abbū, Muħammad Kamāl.” Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl said obediently and respectfully perfectly.
“Well, I said, ‘with my man’, not with my impotent husband’.”*
There was no more splashing, no more hanging against the side of the yacht.
Then there was the noise of confusion as doors opened and closed.
There was the sound of tense voices, hurrying feet.
“Did you scream?” I asked the stunning Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty I was holding in my arms.
“I went there myself hearing it.” she smiled disarmingly, but there wasn’t anyone.”
“Then what about the scream we heard?”
“Your security persons were there. They were talking of a young woman who thought someone was behind her. She screamed. The security persons found no one when they searched the vicinity.”
She was still playing with my Uncut Hindu Penis.
“Sorry, I’ve to have firsthand information from my security itself.”
She smiled at me seductively.
“Oh, sure. I understand. Go ahead.”
“Won’t you care to introduce yourself, if you don’t mind?” I smiled seductively myself.*
The stunning Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty smiled.
“I’m Al Zohrah Al Bittol.”
“Glad to meet you.”
“Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl is my Kħālājān. Taqdīs Aħmad Kamāl is my Kħālāzād sister, my cousin actually.”
“I have a vague remembrance that I’ve seen you with Farkħandah Aħmad Kamāl.”
“Thank you for remembering me.” She kept smiling, “May I get the honor of sucking the great Durgesh’s unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis?”
“You are already playing with it. Go ahead. It’s not actually that I’m honoring you. It’s my pleasure instead. I’m being honored. Thank you.”*
Al Zohrah Al Bittol laughed.
“I’m honored. Thank you. The pleasure is certainly mine. You have really broken all the conventions. The parents are arranging now to gift your unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis to their beloved Just Eighteen Just Adult daughters on their eighteenth birthday. Isn’t it a miracle? The husbands are arranging now to gift your unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis to their beloved wives on their Shab-e-Ůrūsī, their Golden Night even, on anniversaries and other memorable events too to make them more memorable.”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol unzipped me, brought my Uncut Hindu Prick out, kissed it respectfully, licked it and then swallowed entirely into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
My security was in action still now.
The deck was flooded with illumination now.
Yet, it did not stop Al Zohrah Al Bittol from sucking my Uncut Hindu Prick.
Instead, she was sucking it now more excited.
Was she an exhibitionist?
I could not decide.
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl appeared there suddenly.
“Durgesh, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was on board.”
“What?” I was all alert suddenly.
“The stunning Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty that’s sucking you now so indebted, so gratefully, is actually one of the present four wives of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim. Her name is Al Zohrah Al Bittol.”
I watched Al Zohrah Al Bittol gravely now.
“She has told me her name.”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol increased the speed of sucking my Uncut Hindu Penis.
“She can’t get away with it by only sucking your Uncut Hindu Penis.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl shouted, “Your new Musalmān girlfriend has killed her husband, do you knowwwwww?”*
Al Zohrah Al Bittol looked at me gravely.
“The Pseudo Musalmīn have framed me deliberately, Durgesh darling. Your so called innocent Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was actually helping them.”
“Shut up.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said coldly, “I know your story now. What the hell do you think? You stunning Musalmān Beauties, you stunning Musalmān houseladies, can get away with murders even, only because Durgesh loves to fuck you?”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol winked at her.
“You can’t arrest me, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.”
“Why? Because you are sucking Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Penis?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl asked her sarcastically.
“Because I had already anticipated it. I’ve taken anticipatory bail already.”
“I know.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said curtly, “Why the hell are you here on the deck?”
“Tut tut tut. Warn me first, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, that anything I may say may be used against me.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl looked at me angrily.
“She is already speaking your legal language. What the hell you do? As soon as they take your Uncut Hindu Penis in their hands and mouth they suddenly become unapproachable legally.”
“Give her your version of the events, Al Zohrah Al Bittol.”
Someone had thrown over a life preserver with a carbide canister attached.
A brilliant white light spread over the surface of the water.
It illuminated the life preserver, the water around the ship.
It threw against the heavy wall of fog a strange, distorted shadow of the ship running to the disputed island.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand and Muħammad bin Qāsim were representing Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim telephoned me. He was extremely excited.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol said, He said he needed his gun. He said it was on the top of the dresser. He requested me to bring the gun to him on the deck.”
“I see.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled sarcastically patiently.
“Where the hell from was he telephoning to you?”
“He said he was telephoning from the bow of the ship.”
“How can I? All I know what he said to me.”
“You had recognized his voice?”
“He was my husband. Wasn’t he? Can’t I recognize even my own husband’s voice?” Al Zohrah Al Bittol asked ACP Suraiyā Jamāl bitterly.
“That’s what I am asking you myself.”
“She is already biased against me, Durgesh. Don’t you see?”
“Al Zohrah Al Bittol is right, Suraiyā .” I said gravely, “You are a police officer. Act properly. If Al Zohrah Al Bittol can prove you act biased against her, you can be prosecuted for misusing your powers. She is too a taxpayer. You have to protect her civilian rights too.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl looked at me sarcastically.
“Al Zohrah Al Bittol is a Kħālāzād cousin of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, do you know?”*
I looked at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.
“Suraiyā,” I said patiently, “How many times I have told you not to be prejudiced, even infinitesimally, against any one you suspect. You are not a judge, you are only a police officer. I’ve told you already, she has met me now. How can she tell me how many Kħālāzād, Māmūzād, Buāzād, Chachāzād etc. sisters she does have?”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl grimaced.
“Be blind deliberately as much as the damn you want to be, only because she is extremely beautiful and she is fucking you now herself to protect herself. I’m not a man, thanks, thanks God, Allah. She can’t blind me.”
Al Zohrah Al Bittol laughed.
“She is jealous of me, Durgesh.”
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled bitterly.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim told you he was telephoning you from the bow of the ship?”
“He said it was a matter of life and death for him. I had to come fast with his revolver.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol said, fucking me savagely now.
Her bottom was moving up and down on my Uncut Hindu Penis, taking it into her Musalmān Cunt every time when it was down.
“What did you do when he asked you to do so?”
“I jumped out of bed, grabbed the gun and didn’t even wait to put a robe on.”
“So that you can fuck Durgesh sooner to win him on your side?”
“So that I can save him before it’s too late, if it was really a matter of life and death for him.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol said curtly.
“How nice of you.”
“That’s right.” Al Zohrah Al Bittol said tersely, “How nice of me! Why the hell are you questioning me if you are so prejudiced against me already?”
“Oh, it’s routine, Umm-Al-Åālmīn.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl answered exaggerating her politeness ironically, “How lucky you are that you are extraordinary stunning. If you weren’t, you couldn’t have fucking Durgesh and I would have arrested you easily.”
“I sympathize with you, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.”
Suddenly, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl’s cellular phone rang.
“Yes, SP Zubaydah Bābar, Have you got the fingerprints report? Okay. That’s fine. Nice job, so fast. Congrats. Tell me what did you find? Any of the receivers had Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s fingerprints?”*
I felt a feminine palm on my arm.
I looked at her.
My Uncut Hindu Penis was still visiting the triumphant Musalmān Cunt of Al Zohrah Al Bittol vigorously.
It was Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
She was dressed in pajamas and slippers, bundling a robe around her.
Yet, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah wasn’t alone.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was also with her.
I watched both of them.
They were more understanding than the rest of them.
Moreover, they both knew it was not actually the disputed island only that we were on this yacht now.
It was actually the excuse only.
The Pseudo Musalmīn were trying to make even Ved Nagar hot for Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had already ‘exiled’ him from Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.
She thought only Ved Nagar could protect her Abbū now from the ever crazy Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists, criminals and/or criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn.
“What happened?” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah asked.
“What do you know yourself? Tell me first.” I said gravely, “Then I’d tell you what I know, but you don’t.”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at me, ignoring that I was entirely nude now on my back, Al Zohrah Al Bittol was nude too entirely, she was straddling me and fucking me wildly.
It was routine in Ved Nagar, and in my daily life too.
“I heard someone shout ‘Man Overboard’ and a splash.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said.
“Did you hear a shot?” I asked.
“I heard an explosion of some sort.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said, watching me prudently.
She could not believe it could happen on my ship, without any prior information to me.
What the hell was happening?
Was Durgesh himself playing a deep game to protect someone?
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim couldn’t be murdered in this way on Durgesh’s yacht.
Even an utmost foolish murderer would never do it, let it be any wife of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim himself.
She knew Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had especially consulted Durgesh about his utmost greedy relatives.
Was it Durgesh‘s strategy for Al Muħammad Al Qāsim to get rid of his ever greedy relatives?*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cunningly.
“I knew you would advise him something like that.”
She was on her knees and I was fucking Al Safiyah Al Ghaus from her glorious behind.
I looked at her innocently.
“What the hell are you talking about, my extremely sexy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān love?”
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was under constant surveillance of our Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement detectives.”
“And you think I didn’t know it?”
“If you knew it why all the strategy ab initio?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled at me incredulously.
“You and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan were planning to declare Al Muħammad Al Qāsim legally incompetent to deal with his own money and assets. He has transferred all of them to his own legal heirs in his will already. He is dead now legally. You can’t get him declared incompetent now. He has gone underground.”
“I never knew you were so afraid of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and me.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed triumphantly.
I smiled ironically.
“You call it fear, I call it precaution.”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at his extremely beautiful wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, scornfully.
His brother, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s money had converted her into an utmost greedy bitch.
He had proposed her to get a divorce from him.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had laughed at his proposal.
“You can’t get away from me, in this way, my dear husband.”
“I’m not your husband any more.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said curtly to her, “Durgesh is your practical husband now.”
“Almost entire Musalmān Beauties, almost entire Musalmān houseladies, fuck Durgesh/other capable Hindus extra martially, because their ever incurable ever religious Musalmān husbands can’t satisfy them sexually…”
“Bosh and nonsense.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs cut her short, “It’s not sex only you Musalmān Beauties, you Musalmān houseladies , are after Durgesh/Hindus for.”
“You want to get rid of our terrorists, criminals and/or criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn image too. You want to get rid of our backward image too. You want to get rid of our rigid adamant anti human image too.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs charged his ever shrewd wife scornfully.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled ironically.
“And we should never do it?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs couldn’t answer this blunt question.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
“Even if you are right, what’s wrong in it, if we Musalmān Beauties, we Musalmān houseladies, really do it? Shouldn’t we get rid of our backward image if we can get rid of it? Shouldn’t we get rid of our terrorists, criminals and/or criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn image too, if we can? Shouldn’t we get rid of our rigid adamant anti human image too, if we can? If you don’t want to get rid of these images, it’s alright with us. We are not compelling you to do it. Then why do you criticize us? Are we your slaves, not your Musalmān houseladies?”*
As soon as Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said she had heard an ‘explosion of some sort’, I ordered,
“Rig up the searchlights.”
A man from the top of the pilothouse said,
“I’m getting it, sir.”
The canvas covers were ripped off the searchlights.
A moment later the arcs sputtered into brilliance.
The long shafts of light pushed themselves against the opalescent fog to be swallowed up in milky nothingness.
“Try the stern,” I said, “a little back of that life preserver.”
The searchlights swung out to play on the water around the flare that was attached to the life preserver.
A small boat splashed into the water.
There was the sound of oars and a boat rowed rapidly down the stream, then turned and came back against the current.
A man standing in the bow bent down, searching the water by the aid of a beam from a five cell hand flashlight.
“Let’s get everyone on deck. Find out if anyone’s missing as ACP Suraiyā Jamāl is claiming that Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is. Let’s confirm what’s actually happened.”
I turned at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.
“Have you seen anyone else?”
“A man standing in the stern. I take it he was one of the crew.”
“Yes.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at Al Zohrah Al Bittol significantly, “A woman running down the deck, clad in her night clothes.”
“Do you know her?”
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah pointed at Al Zohrah Al Bittol.*
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
I woke slowly.
Without opening my eyes, as the fog gradually cleared from my mind I realized that, first, I was not in my own room in my own bed.
In addition, I realized that my morning hard-on felt different.
More than different, it felt much, much better than usual.
The fog cleared slowly.
Eyes still closed I remembered that I was in the bed in Anurādhā Bhārgav’s spare room.
Bit by bit my mind cleared as I climbed toward the world of the awake.
Today was my birthday, my sixty fourth birthday.
Anurādhā Bhārgav had convinced me to stay over, promising that this would be the best birthday I’d ever had in Bhr’gu Creations.
I had smiled.
“Well, Anurādhā Bhārgav darling, Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu has already passed a resolution here in the Bhr’gu Creations that any Bhārgav Beauty that does not want me her husband, has ultimately to leave Bhr’gu Creations for ever. She can visit Bhr’gu Creations if she wants but she can’t enjoy the citizenship of Bhr’gu Creations. What the hell more anyone can give to me here?”
Anurādhā Bhārgav smiled teasingly.
“Stay and find out, Param Purush.”
And now my morning hard-on felt different.
More than different, it felt much, much better than usual. It felt ─ warm and moist.
Something pulled gently on my cock.
Slowly I opened my eyes.
Anurādhā Bhārgav was looking up at me with a smile in her eyes — and my Bachhalyā Lund in her tremendously stunning Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth.
Not, Uncut Hindu Lund.
In entire Bachhalyā Brahmkanyās Creations, Bachhalyā Brahmāñīs Creations and Other Brāhm Creations, they used their own Bījāxars strictly.
Sucking gently Anurādhā Bhārgav pulled her immensely splendid Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth almost to the tip of my very hard, very big, morning hard-on.
And then, slowly, my very beautiful sister in law, Sālī, took my very big, very hard Bachhalyā Lund back into her extremely exquisite Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! God, it felt so good!
She had never done it before.
Even though it was not only allowed in Bachhalyā Brahmkanyās Creations, Bachhalyā Brahmāñīs Creations, and Other Brāhm Creations, morally and legally, it was even expected from my Brāhmañ Sālīs, sisters in law, to honor me in this way.
In Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah Creations, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had made it obligatory to Musalmān Beauties there.
Padminī Bhārgav didn’t want to be left behind.
Padminī Bhārgav had instead defeated Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan by passing an Act that in entire Bachhalyā Brahmkanyās Creations and Bachhalyā Brahmāñīs Creations too, every Brāhmañ Beauty was my wife by birth.She could marry someone else only if she is specifically permitted to do so.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan hadn’t gone that for.
Not because she couldn’t do it.
She even didn’t attempt to do it.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is over possessive to Durgesh.” Padminī Bhārgav had criticized her, “She actually wants to keep Durgesh exclusively for herself.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had only smiled on it and dismissed it without any response from her.*
Sunandā Bhārgav straddled on me.
“You have to do something, Jījū.” She said.
“Jījū?” I squeezed her buttocks, “Still Jījū? Sālī, now I’m not only your Padminī Bhārgav Dīdī’s husband, but your husband too as well.”
Sunandā Bhārgav didn’t respond to what I said.
Instead, she said.
“Padminī Bhārgav Dīdī sent Anurādhā Bhārgav to you. But it doesn’t seem to convince you, we really need your administrative services. Padminī Bhārgav Dīdī asked me consequently to take the matter in my own hands.”
“What about your Brāhmañ Beauties Squad Padminī Bhārgav organized on Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s request?
“What the hell can Brāhmañ Beauties Squad do in this matter, Jījū?”
“Stop calling me ‘Jījū’, you idiot.”
“I’m not idiot. I’m Space Security Incharge for Bhr’gu Creations. And I am doing my duty.”
“What have you found until now,Padminī Bhārgav had organized a BrahmPadminī Squad too, didn’t she?”*
Sunandā Bhārgav kept herself aloof.
“I don’t know. That’s Padminī Bhārgav Dīdī’s own personal squad.”
“To compete with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Seven movements? Do you damnfools really think I fall for beauty instead of brain?”
“Ask your own wife, Padminī Bhārgav Dīdī. Why the hell are you asking me? A huge celestial object, weighing ten trillion tons has suddenly appeared on the space of every inhabited planet of Bhr’gu Creations. It is hurtling through the every solar system of Bhr’gu Creations at inconceivable speed.”
“I know, I know, but…”*
It was impossible now to protect even one’s own space, even for a Creations, without the express cooperation of HVSI.
Sunandā Bhārgav regretted now she couldn’t understand what Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu wanted when he propositioned the unavailability of citizenship for the Bhārgav Brāhmañ Beauties who refused to marry with Durgesh.
Yes, she was not alone.
But she led them.
She refused to cooperate even with her elder sister Padminī Bhārgav.
“Only because you love Durgesh, it doesn’t mean every Bhārgav Brāhmañ Beauty must also love him.”
Padminī Bhārgav said patronizingly.
“Sunandā, don’t act childish now.”
“I am not acting childish, you are acting childish. I am acting as a grown up. I refuse to delegate my fundamental women right to Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu even that he would decide to whom I would marry.”
“Well, then you can’t get the citizenship of Bhārgav Brāhmañ Creations.”
“Why not? It’s my fundamental women right. I can marry anyone I damn please.”
“Sure.” Padminī Bhārgav smiled, “Similarly Bhārgav Brāhmañ Creations have their fundamental right to let enjoy their citizenship to anyone they damn please and refuse to grant this privilege to anyone they damn please. What the hell wrong in it?”*
I moaned, as Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife, Pārvatī Pāŧhak, attacked my Bachhalyā Lund like a street whore, impishly.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Slow down, Pārvatī Pāŧhak, my Pāŧhak Brāhmañ sweetheart,” I said as I felt my Bachhalyā balls start to tingle.
But Pārvatī Pāŧhak just took me deeper into her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth, her hot tongue massaging my entire Bachhalyā shaft, her hands cupping my Bachhalyā balls.
I came. Hard.
Spurt after spurt spewed down Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife’s throat.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak swallowed my every Bachhalyā drop, and then sucked and licked my great Bachhalyā Lund clean.
She was doing it more proudly now.
Getting rid of Shiv Shankar Sharmā for ever, now I was the only man in her life.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was cursing herself for choosing Shiv Shankar Sharmā her life partner ab initio.
He never deserved the honor.
Despite his every effort to act to be a humanitarian, Pārvatī Pāŧhak knew he was actually a traditional communal Brāhmañ.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak didn’t know it when she married him.
Yet she was happy now that she accepted Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s suggestion now to sacrifice herself for their great Brāhmañ community’s ultimate welfare.
She was herself worried that Musalmān Beauties, and Musalmān houseladies even, were dominating now capable and powerful Hindus’ sex life more and more day by day.
Yes, they were so many times more in number than BrahmKanyās and Brahmāñīs were, but it should never mean that the BrahmKanyās and Brahmāñīs should lose the capable and powerful Hindus forever, not to Musalmān Beauties only but to ever shrewder Musalmān houseladies even.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked up at me with those big green eyes.
“Please don’t be angry. I attacked you sexually as if I were street whore to you, only impishly.”
“I know you, Pārvatī Bhābhī,” I said gravely, “Don’t worry.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak blushed.
“Stop calling me ‘Bhābhī’ now.”
“Bad habits die gradually.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak laughed sarcastically,
“Of course! Bad habits! Sālī, I never wanted to call you ‘Bhābhī’.”
“Bachhalyā scoundrel! I never thought you wanted to fuck me right from the beginning.”
I winked at Pārvatī Pāŧhak lewdly.
“What’s wrong there now in accepting the truth?”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak held her head high.
“I am honored. Thank you.”
“Did you really never understand when I teased you before you married Shiv Shankar Sharmā?”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak retorted.
“What the hell was there to understand? You were so loudly obvious. You hugged me, you kissed me, you squeezed my breasts, you squeezed my buttocks, even tried to give your ever sexiest Bachhalyā Lund into my Pāŧhak Brāhmañ fist. Once you undressed me even completely despite my protests while you were already nude, and tried to fuck me even.”
I looked into her beautiful Brāhmañ eyes significantly.
“Tried to fuck you? Only tried to fuck you?”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak hesitated somewhat.
Then she admitted boldly.
“Well, you took my virginity and fucked me furiously for eighteen months completely nonstop. It was not our first Honeymoon that lasted for one month plus only. That was our actual Honeymoon that lasted for eighteen months.”
“And as soon as I pulled out of you, you married Shiv Shankar Sharmā.” I complained her.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak brought down her eyes.
“Sorry, I could not bear that. I was afraid of your Bachhalyā hyper sex. I was brought up in a Pāŧhak Brāhmañ environment. And you impregnated me.”
“What?” I jumped in extremely pleasant astonishment.
“Yes, Brahmesh Sharmā is actually your son, not of Shiv Shankar Sharmā.” Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked at me gravely.
I was dumbfounded.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak smiled courteously.
“What’s there to be surprised? You impregnated more women than even really know. You have more sons from your women than even you know of. We always lie to you in the matter due to various reasons.”
I could not believe her.
“But…but you too enjoyed that eighteen month great sex session of us.”
“Well, yes. It was my ever first sex session. I couldn’t resist it. Could I?”*
Anurādhā Bhārgav was, and still is, one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen ─ naked or otherwise!
She had short blond hair that framed a sweet, angelic face.
Anurādhā Bhārgav was about five three, shorter than I was.
Her tits were big and very firm.
Her stomach was flat and her waist was small.
Her gorgeous Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass was incredible, heavy, big and tight.
In Bhārgav Brāhmañ Beauties, only Padminī Bhārgav had more beautiful ass than Anurādhā Bhārgav.
And at the top of the two most beautiful long legs was the world’s most perfect Bhārgav Brāhmañ Pussy, after that of Padminī Bhārgav, of course.
Anurādhā Bhārgav was slowly and gently sucking my Bachhalyā Lund again in and out of the prettiest Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth I’d ever seen, after that of Padminī Bhārgav.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, it felt so good!
“Happy birthday, Durgesh!” Anurādhā Bhārgav wished me again.
And then she slid her tremendously stunning Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth back down the full length of my Bachhalyā Lund.
As Anurādhā Bhārgav pulled back, sucking just a little harder, I came.
Head back, eyes closed again, I shot my Bachhalyā cum into her tremendously stunning Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth.
And she swallowed it and sucked some more, and swallowed again.
My eyes opened again and I watched as she licked the cum from the tip of my Bachhalyā Lund.
“I told you this would be the best birthday ever, didn’t I?” She licked my Bachhalyā Lund again before she came to her knees.*
Anurādhā Bhārgav was totally nude.
Her tits were even more perfect than they had looked through the not quite closed doors, her tummy even flatter and her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Pussy even more beautiful.
Slowly she moved up until her exquisite tremendously beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ Cunt was rubbing the underside of my still throbbing Bachhalyā Lund.
She rocked her hips gently against my Bachhalyā hard-on for just a few minutes before I almost came again, once more.
“You like my Bhārgav Brāhmañ Pussy, don’t you, Durgesh?” She moved slowly up the bed towards my face on her knees. “Did you ever think you’d get to see it so close?” She stopped just inches from my mouth.
Her skin was soft and smooth, her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Pussy shaved totally clean.
“Did you think I didn’t know you were watching? Did you think I left the doors opened by accident? I knew you were watching, my Bachhalyā Jījū. I wanted you to watch. Did you know I watched you? Did you know I watched you in the morning when you woke up and stroked that utmost handsome Bachhalyā Lund until you came? Do you know how often I was tempted to come into your room and suck on that big hard Bachhalyā Lund like I did this morning? But I knew you’d wait and I wanted your next birthday to be one you would never forget!”
I hadn’t been awake very long and I was already sure she had managed that!
“Do you know what your next present is going to be, my Bachhalyā Jījū? You get to kiss me there! You get to kiss this Bhārgav Brāhmañ Pussy until I’m unable to resist to cum!” She rocked her hips forward and her exquisite tremendously beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ Cunt was right there.
She rocked back and tried to catch her breath.
“How do you like your birthday presents so far, my Bachhalyā Jījū? Your first blow job from me and your first Bachhalyā kiss on my Bhārgav Brāhmañ Pussy. Now I have another first for you.” She moved slowly back down the bed, lifted her gorgeous Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass slightly and guided my hard on slowly into her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Pussy.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! God, Anurādhā Bhārgav, that feels so good!”
“Hmmm, it does, doesn’t it?” She started moving slowly up and down, back and forth, pushing her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Pussy all the way down on my Bachhalyā Lund and then pulling it almost all the way off and then slowly pushing it all the way back down.
“Hey Bhagvān! God, Durgesh, you have a great Bachhalyā Lund!”
Anurādhā Bhārgav fucked me, fucked me and fucked me.
We both damn cared for how long.
It seemed like a beautiful eternity before I felt my Bachhalyā Lund swelling and then I came again, filling Anurādhā Bhārgav’s exquisite tremendously beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ Cunt with my cum.
“Yes, Durgesh, yes! Fuck me! Yes!” Her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Pussy was grabbing my Bachhalyā Lund and pulling my Bachhalyā cum out of me like a milking machine!
Finally she stopped moving and just kneeled there with my Bachhalyā Lund still in her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Pussy until she caught her breath.
Her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Pussy squeezed my Bachhalyā Lund for just a moment and then released it.
But she didn’t move.
My Bachhalyā Lund was still buried deepst in her exquisite tremendously beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ Cunt.
“What do you think, girls? Was I right?”
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā!
Anurādhā Bhārgav watched the pleasant shock spread over my face and laughed.
“You didn’t know we had an audience, did you, my Bachhalyā Jījū?” Anurādhā Bhārgav pointed to my left. “Durgesh, I’d like you to meet Supriyā Dīxit.”
As I turned my head to the left she stepped from the spot she’d been sitting by the head of the bed.
Supriyā Dīxit was about the same height as Anurādhā Bhārgav with full, beautifully shaped tits.
They were firm and her nipples were big and ready to be squeezed.
Her Dīxit Brāhmañ waist was a bit bigger than Anurādhā Bhārgav’s and so was her gorgeous Dīxit Brāhmañ ass, but the thing that got my attention was her exquisite tremendously beautiful Dīxit Brāhmañ Cunt.
The lips were puffy and wet, begging to be rubbed by my legendary unique Bachhalyā Lund.
She seemed to realize what I was staring at.
She laughed and slid a finger slowly into her Dīxit Brāhmañ Pussy.
“Hi, Durgesh. Do you like this?”
Do I like it?
The only Bhārgav Brāhmañ Pussy I ever saw present there that was nicer was Anurādhā Bhārgav’s!
Anurādhā Bhārgav laughed again.
“And this,” Anurādhā Bhārgav pointed to the right, “is Jāhnavī Sharmā.”
Jāhnavī Sharmā moved into my field of vision from her chair at the head of the bed.
Jāhnavī Sharmāwas a couple of inches shorter than Supriyā Dīxit with tits that were somewhere between either of the other Brāhmañ girls.
I was in Brāhmañ heaven.
Three of the world’s most wonderful sets of Brāhmañ tits waiting for me to feel and play with them.
She had short red hair that was a real turn on and a cute face with freckles across her nose and the cutest dimples in her Sharmā Brāhmañ cheeks.
And where both Anurādhā Bhārgav and Supriyā Dīxit had shaved their Brāhmañ pussies clean, Jāhnavī Sharmā had left a small, neatly trimmed patch just above her exquisite tremendously beautiful Sharmā Brāhmañ Cunt.
“Hi, Durgesh.” She had a soft voice and I loved her dimples.
“Didn’t I tell you he was a Bachhalyā stud?” Anurādhā Bhārgav squeezed my Bachhalyā Lund with her Bhārgav Brāhmañ Pussy again.
“You were right, Anurādhā Bhārgav! I can’t wait to get that Bachhalyā Lund in my Dīxit Brāhmañ Pussy!” Supriyā Dīxit still had her finger moving slowly in and out of her exquisite tremendously beautiful Dīxit Brāhmañ Cunt.
“You go ahead, Supriyā Dīxit! I want his hot Bachhalyā kiss on my Sharmā Brāhmañ Pussy!” Jāhnavī Sharmā was rubbing her nipples with her finger tips.
Anurādhā Bhārgav squeezed my Bachhalyā Lund one more time and then got up. “Did you hear that, my Bachhalyā Jījū? You have two more Brāhmañ pussies to satisfy. Think you’re up to it?”
Before I could answer, Jāhnavī Sharmā was lowering her Sharmā Brāhmañ Pussy to my Bachhalyā mouth and just seconds later I felt Supriyā Dīxit pull my Bachhalyā Lund into her exquisite tremendously beautiful Dīxit Brāhmañ Cunt.
I rocked my hips slowly, wanting this to last forever.
I pushed my Bachhalyā Lund as deepest into Supriyā Dīxit’s Dīxit Brāhmañ Pussy as it would go and held it there for a few seconds before I slowly pulled it back out almost all the way.
At the same time I teased Jāhnavī Sharmā’s Sharmā Brāhmañ Pussy with my Bachhalyā male lips, finding that sweet spot near the top that seemed to drive her crazy.
Supriyā Dīxit was fucking me now madly.*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Seven movements
7. Ashvinātam Gangbang Club
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Ǻrab Sheikħ shifted his right hand to a position near the first lapel of his green coat.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand caught a glimpse of a revolver in a shoulder holster.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled.
Still having faith in violent means and strategies.
Ħuzūr S.A.W were compelled to use violent means in his divine holy lifetime to establish peace everywhere.
He S.A.W couldn’t do it another way.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand was sure if Ħuzūr S.A.W were today he S.A.W would never have resorted to any violent means whatsoever.
The modern Ǻrab Sheikħs were never capable to understand Muħsin-e-insāniyat S.A.W.
They had erroneously surrendered to Ǻrab Imperialism in the name of Islam.
Consequently they had themselves killed the mission of Ħuzūr S.A.W unknowingly, imprudently.
Ved Nagar was a City of Shaktimāns.
What could the dog or his revolver do if Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand used his mind/spiritual power?
Present day Musalmīn, Pseudo Musalmīn actually, had faith in the means Yazīd Malåūn had more than in the faith Ħuzūr S.A.W had.
The dog, facing the door, elevated his tail, the tip of it waving to and fro.
A bolt shot on the inside of the door.
The Ǻrab Sheikħ opened the door for an inch or two.
A safety chain was holding it in that position.
A porch light clicked on, outlining Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand in brilliance.
“Who are you?” The Ǻrab Sheikħ asked Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, “What do you want?”
“I’m looking for the master of this mansion.”
“I’d prefer to tell that to himself only.”
“Give me some hint to tell him why you want to meet him.”
“About some properties he has here at Ved Nagar.”
“As far as I know, the Boss is interested only in purchasing the properties here, not in selling.”
“This mansion is also owned by the Mayor himself?”
“Not by the Mayor of Ved Nagar. It’s on his personal name along with Begum Sāliħah Ayyūb.”
“I’d like to meet anyone of them.”
“Well, not as late as tonight now. Go back to wherever you have come from, or to a hotel. Call on him after ten o’clock in the morning.” The Ǻrab Sheikħ started to close the door.
Then, something about the dog’s attitude caught the attention of the Ǻrab Sheikħ.
He asked suspiciously.
“Hey, how the hell did you get past that dog?”
“I happen to know something about their psychology.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled graciously.
“Well, the dog is not supposed to let anyone out of a car after dark.”
“It seems the dog made an exception in my case,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand kept smiling politely yet gracefully, “I just got out of the car and…”
“Why the hell the dog made an exception for you?”
“Ask your dog.”
The Ǻrab Sheikħ frowned,
“Just who are you anyway?”
“I’m trying to find out something about Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.”
The Ǻrab Sheikħ’s face became rigidly immobile.
“Know anything about her?” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand asked politely in his sweetest voice.
“No,” The Ǻrab Sheikħ said, and slammed the door.
“Her bodyguard has been found murdered early this morning.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand called through the closed door.
He was taking safe risks using the general psychology of the Ǻrab Sheikħs.
There was no response.
Yet, on the other hand, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand heard no sound of steps in the corridor.
It indicated the Ǻrab Sheikħ hadn’t turned away from the door.
It further indicated the Ǻrab Sheikħ was hesitating whether to turn away or he should open the door.
It was the correct psychological moment to attack psychologically further more.
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim stopped here.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand said gravely, “Her bodyguard was driving the car. Al Samīnah Al Qāsim had her gasoline tank filled here.”
There was a pause, then the door jerked open.
“What was that you said?” The Ǻrab Sheikħ demanded.
“I said Al Samīnah Al Qāsim stopped here sometime around twelve thirty o’clock in the morning and had her gas tank filled.”
“You must be drunk or crazy. I neither know which nor do I give a damn. Now, get back in your car or I’ll tell the dog to tear your leg off.”
“Do that and I’ll sue you persons for damages. It would be a fun to wind up owning a Ved Nagar ranch of you persons.”
“It isn’t that easy, my boy.”
“Go on,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand told the Ǻrab Sheikħ, “Tell your dog to tear of my leg and see what happens.”
“What the hell you want?”
“I want to ask something about Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.”
“She isn’t here.”
“What if she was?”
“Ask the Mayor or Begum Sāliħah Ayyūb.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled cunningly, “Being an arrogant dumb Ǻrab Sheikħ you may not understand what if Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was here while her bodyguard is found murdered, but neither Durgesh nor his Begum Sāliħah Ayyūb maybe as dumb as you are. Your indiscreet arrogance never allows you to use your wisdoms. Or, don’t you have any wisdom at all, man?”*
There followed a long moment.
During the moment, the heavy, sinewy, powerful Ǻrab Sheikħ, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, behind the door, met Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand’s smart and brilliant eyes in thoughtful appraisal.
He turned and looked at Amīnah Zahīr and me for instructions.
Just Eighteen Just Adult Amīnah Zahīr was still nude on her back.
I was still between her glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān legs.
My sixty four years old, utmost experienced, Musalmān Cunts Champion Uncut Hindu Lund was still enjoying its victory over the Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Cunt, visiting it triumphantly, proudly, vigorously.
Amīnah Zahīr impishly nodded to Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr.
She didn’t hesitate even for a second to face Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, while I was fucking her.
Ved Nagar Constitution allowed her.
That’s only what Amīnah Zahīr cared about.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was her ideal.
And Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was a proud nudist feminist, even now when Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was the Everfirst President of Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.
It was the visitor’s responsibility to choose whether s/he wanted to see a pair in lovemaking or not.
The Citizens of Ved Nagar were constitutionally allowed to make love anywhere they damn pleased publicly.
The persons having objection, could leave the place, if they didn’t want to see them in making love.
Being himself a citizen of Ved Nagar Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand knew it very well.
Getting permission from Amīnah Zahīr, the Just Eighteen Just Adult young lady, involved in lovemaking with me, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr removed the safety chain from the door.
He invited them in.
“Come in. They are in lovemaking. But if you haven’t any taboo in watching them making love, you may come in.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled.
“Thank you. None of us has any taboo whatsoever against watching our hosts making love. It’s their mansion. It’s their privilege.”
“Okay, you may come in, Mr.─?”
“Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.”
“All right, Mr. Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, come in.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand turned back toward the car,
“Come on, Bājī, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Muħammad bin Qāsim,” he called.
“What about that damned dog?” Muħammad bin Qāsim called irritably, “Can’t you put him in his damned closet?”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said curtly,
“The dog remains where he is. However, he won’t do anything unless I tell him to.”
“You, caretaker here?” Muħammad bin Qāsim asked trying to humiliate Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled curtly,
“Never mind. Don’t bother your child brain to understand my status here. Nevertheless, I’m representing Imām Muħammad Ħasan here, if it’s any of your damned business.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand interfered.
“We are also representing Imām Muħammad Ħasan. There isn’t anything to be arrogant to each other.”
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan didn’t inform me of you peoples’ arrival on his behalf, neither Muħammad Åbdullah bothered to do so.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan opened the door.
Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim followed her Nanad Bājī, her sister in law.
Both of them slid out to the ground, walked confidently toward the porch, watching Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand standing there.
The dog turned to regard them, gave a low throated, ominous growl, but made no move.
Muħammad bin Qāsim had put one foot on the ground.
However, as soon as he heard the growl, Muħammad bin Qāsim promptly returned to the automobile and slammed the door.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr eyed Muħammad bin Qāsim scornfully,
“Shame on you. Even the ladies are more daring. Damn you. It’s all right.” then he turned to the dog, “Shut up, Shérū!”
The dog ceased growling, regarded Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s confident approach with hard-eyed appraisal, ignoring Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim altogether, then slowly waved the tip of his tail.
Muħammad bin Qāsim, observed that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim made it all right.
He opened the door once more, placed his right foot on the ground tentatively, cautiously, followed it with his left foot, and took two or three guardedly diffident, timid, steps toward the porch.
The dog bristled, stiffened, growled, then suddenly made a lunge for Muħammad bin Qāsim.
Muħammad bin Qāsim whirled, raced back into the car just as the snarling dog flung himself against the door, his teeth snapping at the metal.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr opened the door, ran out on the porch, yelled,
“Shérū! Down! Damn it, Shérū, get down!”
The dog looked back over his shoulder.
Slowly and reluctantly, the dog sank to a crouching position on the ground.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled to himself.
That’s what he himself was to his wife, Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā.
When Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā scolded him, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr did also sink to crouching position, near her beautiful sacred Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān feet.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wanted all of them that way.
Moreover, they hadn’t another option.
He was proud of himself that he was a cuckold to his extremely beautiful wife, Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā and her Hindu lover, Durgesh, the greatest.
Ved Nagar was an actual Democratic City State.
Otherwise, the cuckold Musalmīn could never celebrate their Independence day openly.
Durgesh was against it.
Most of the HVSI persons were against it.
Nevertheless, most of them allowed the proposal to put to vote.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr was immensely glad when the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI ultimately announced the victory of the cuckold Musalmīn.
They were allowed to celebrate their Independence day.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her entire 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 supported the cuckold Musalmīn.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr was immensely indebted and grateful to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
He shouted to the dog.
“Here, Shérū, come here. Come here to me!”
The dog turned and came toward Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr as though expecting a beating.
“Damn you,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said, “I told you not to do that. Now you get down and stay down.”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr walked to the car confidently with immense self-pride.
He wasn’t ashamed of himself that he was a cuckold husband.
Neither any of his cuckold friends was.
They had successfully formed a Cuckold Society maintaining their own kind of freedom with their extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies and their Hindu lovers/live in relationship partners.
It was a punishable crime now in Ved Nagar to disgrace them or their society.
It was a Society of Triples, instead of couples, supported by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself.
The Musalmān wife, Hindu lover/live in relationship partner and Musalmān husband were the three members of a legal unit of it.
So many Musalmīn were against it, yet there were some Musalmīn too that supported the movement Cuckold Your Musalmān husband.
Their demand was ‘Cuckold the entire terrorists to disgrace and punish them publicly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā herself for them, reincarnated.
Muħammad bin Qāsim was watching Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr curiously.
“Come in,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said to Muħammad bin Qāsim, “Shérū won’t hurt you now.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim looked past Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr at the dog, and said huskily,
“If that damned dog makes a pass at me, I’m going to shoot at him.”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr eyed Muħammad bin Qāsim with cold hard eyes.
“You would do nothing of the sort if you don’t want to get hurt yourself. If you hurt the dog even infinitesimal, I’d break your damned neck. Understand?”
Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted.
“You damned cuckold, I know everything about you. Never try to threaten me again, you shameless creature.”
“Well, it’s better to be shameless as I am than being shameful as you are. Now, come on.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim gritted through his teeth helplessly, quite annoyed.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr was smiling at Muħammad bin Qāsim with quite a smirk on his face,
“My boy, you won’t have any trouble with Shérū as long as you get out and come in moving confidently.”
“You bloody cuckold, are you teaching me how to behave with that damned dog?” Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted quite irritated now.
“Sure, you impotent,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr laughed.
“Damn you. I’m not impotent.” Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted again.
“Your girlfriends claim that you are.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled deliberately humiliating Muħammad bin Qāsim now.
“They are horny bitches. They claim my impotence only because they want to get sympathy of Durgesh and his legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund.”
“If you were a man why the hell your Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girlfriends would need Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund instead of your cut Musalmān nūnī?”
“Cut Musalmān Lund.” Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted irritably.
“Cut Musalmān nūnī.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr laughed.
“Cut Musalmān Lund.”
“Cut Musalmān nūnī.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr repeated, “That’s what your girlfriends call your entirely incompetent bloody sexual organ. Don’t they, my boy?”
“Shut up, you bloody cuckold.”
“It’s better to be even a cuckold than being impotent.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr kept laughing at Muħammad bin Qāsim.*
Muħammad bin Qāsim was surprised at the cuckold’s entirely unashamed aggressive behavior.
“Oh, come on.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said, “Move confidently but don’t ever start running from a dog, and don’t ever act as though you were afraid.”
“Stand still and let the damned dog tear a leg off, I suppose. Isn’t it?” Muħammad bin Qāsim said sarcastically.
“Impotent, your Jījū and your sisters didn’t have any trouble,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr pointed out, “did they?”
“The trouble I had,” Muħammad bin Qāsim told Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, “was enough to make up for all the four of us.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim eased himself out of the automobile and followed Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr to the porch.
“Come in,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr invited them, “Shérū, get the hell back out of the way.”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr aimed a halfhearted kick imitating his ever-dominant wife, Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā used to aim at him with her foot.
He used to enjoy both the actions.
Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā kicking him with her foot as if he was her dog, instead of her husband and imitating her himself with Shérū and other dogs.
His critics laughed at him.
“You love blasphemy, don’t you?” his worst critic, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī had watched Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr scornfully once.
“How do you mean?” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled at him as if it wasn’t anything abnormal.
“Your wife is also Zaynab bint Åāmir but she isn’t certainly Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā. Is she?”
“I respect her this way. Can’t I even respect my wife? Damn you.”
“Isn’t it a fact that when your wife gets fucked by Durgesh sitting on his lap, she uses you as her footrest, as her pedestal?”
“So what? I love it. I enjoy it.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled proudly, entirely unashamed of himself.
“You clean Durgesh’s legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund after Durgesh sodomizes your wife, by sucking him taking it in your mouth. Don’t you?”
“It’s a new society, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. Try to understand it Imām Sāħab.”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās laughed.
“My secretary can take care of it. Why the hell the ever greatest Durgesh is worried of it?”
“Okay. Let’s talk about something else.” I smiled, “Would you care to tell me what figure you received for the movie rights, for instance?”
“The media insists that I got one million dollars cash for you and one million dollars cash for myself too separately.”
“Well, we both know that’s not true. Even the media couldn’t surmise what the exact heavy remuneration we received for the movie rights.”
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās squeezed my hardening Uncut Hindu Penis impishly.
“The media surmised but has been bribed to keep mum about the actual figure.”
“Sure, but not directly, through Shankar Mahāpralayankar instead.” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās winked at me, “The media could double cross me, but not Shankar Mahāpralayankar.”
“Getting smart, don’t you?”
“The law of mutual inductance is working, Hindu Piyā.” she winked at me.
I squeezed her buttocks.
“What about the royalties?”
“Well,” she said, “royalties from the hard cover edition have been very satisfying, you know. However, the paperback edition that’s coming out is going to be the main source of income. It’s no secret, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt. I have been given a guaranteed royalty for a period of ten years, payable in ten annual installments.”
“You think the book will be selling for ten years?”
“Why not? I think the book will be selling even more. It’s not only a book on sex. I have deliberately studied your writing style and tried my best to imitate you. It’s a book on humanity, Hindu Muslim Unity, Ved Nagar, Parapsychology, Eīshān Vigyān, Para humanity, etcetera.”
“You seem to be quite confident.” I smiled, “Your corrupt politician Musalmān husband, Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī, didn’t feel humiliated? He didn’t object that you have boldly written a book about your extramarital affair with me?”
“We aren’t living in a feudal era anymore.” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās laughed, “If he doesn’t approve of my love life with you, he can ask for divorce. What the hell any more can a husband do to his wife on her extramarital affair?”
I watched her.
“Not legally. You are right.”
“Not even illegally. I have eaten milk and rice with Shankar Mahāpralayankar from a common plate. Shankar Mahāpralayankar is now my milk-shared brother. I put even Raxābandhan on Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s wrist. Shankar Mahāpralayankar has warned Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī already. If he doesn’t approve of my extramarital affair with you, Shankar Mahāpralayankar would never mind if he divorces me. But if anything sinister happens to me,Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī will sign his own death warrant thus.”*
“Very smart. I sympathize with poor helpless Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī.”
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās smiled at me cunningly.
“Planning to write other books?”
“Not so certain, yet.”
“Don’t you want to follow even your such a spectacular success?”
“After a while, perhaps. Nevertheless, you know, people essentially are hypocrites. They love to lecture about morality, but they love to read about immorality.
“An attractive young Musalmān woman writes a story about her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān heroine whose clothes keep coming off. The Musalmān female writer describes the resultant consequences in detail.
“The people are shocked.
“But that’s the point.
“People love to be shocked.”
I didn’t say anything.
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās kept speaking in the same flow.
She was too enthusiastic now to stop.
In addition, why the hell shouldn’t she?
She married Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī when she was not as capable, as popular, as understanding, as smart and as resourceful, as ingenious, as she was now.
“If someone notices the bestsellers,” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās continued to say, “and bothers to analyze them too carefully, s/he can’t miss to find that most of the sex books written by attractive women…”
“Why?” I interrupted teasing her playfully.
“Well,” she also became mischievous, “Because we women are sexier than you men.”
“Well, our Hindu studies too tally with your realization, but no one would believe you.”
“That’s right. I know it. That’s why I say the people hypocrites. They know so many cold and hard truths, yet they are too hypocrite, are at least too afraid, to accept them to themselves even when they are alone.”
“You are right.” I said gravely.
“Thanks. I was telling you that most of the sex books written by attractive women, whose photographs look very seductive on the dust jackets, are the stories that sell in big figures.
“Women readers love to read about sex more than the male readers, because most of us women are more hypocrites in this matter than you men. Our most hypocrite social system is responsible for it. It requires more morals from women than it requires from you males. You are praised everywhere, envied, and even role modeled, even by movie and television personalities and stars; because you have fucked most of the Beauties exist anywhere anytime, whether they are Musalmān Beauties or otherwise. However, Sidrah Aħmad is termed even a slut by most of the persons for she isn’t a One Man Woman. What a double standard. What a horribly hypocrite society we have.” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās spit away in a dustbin.*
I watched her gravely.
Her husband, Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī, was listening to her attentively yet he didn’t want to come to the hall.
He hated both his wife, Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās, and me.
He hated his humiliation very much.
He was himself a man.
He has his own self-respect after all.
How the hell could he tolerate his own wife’s extramarital affair with me?
Yet what the hell could he do?
His wife was now smarter, shrewder, more capable, more resourceful, and more prudent and had even too much more money now, still flooding in more and more to her.
He couldn’t win her.
He was left too far behind his wife.
Only because she had a cunt and Durgesh fucked her.
He was a damn male.
He couldn’t get that easy money.
Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī heard.
I was saying.
“Our present society is not actually homogeneous, Tasbīħ. It’s a heterogeneous society. Every Democratic society is bound to be a heterogeneous society.”
“We must understand, for our own benefit, that we can’t have a common standard strictly, even if we want to do so. We are bound to have not only double standard but a multi standard society actually, whether we accept it boldly or not.”
“Because we are a Democratic society. We have to respect the standards the other persons have, whether we like them or not. I respect Sidrah Aħmad’s philosophy of life that she is ambitious to have sex with almost every Hindu male, though I’m strictly a man that actually respects and praises One Man Women.”
“Hey, I never knew that. Aren’t Sidrah Aħmad and you close friends, as close as you have sex mutually too?”
“So what? I think, perhaps, I don’t have any woman friend that isn’t as close to me as we have sex mutually. Even the women in my relations, even the Houseladies of my friends and foes have sexual relations with me. So, why not Sidrah Aħmad? What the hell has she done to harm me or other human beings?”
“Your friends don’t hate you that you enjoy sex with their own Houseladies?” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās smiled.
“Some of them do.” I accepted, “Some of them have severed even their friendship with me and they are my worst critics and/or enemies too now. But they are helpless because as soon as they severe their friendship with me, their Houseladies turn also against them, and start ridiculing and humiliating them themselves.”
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās watched me in an honest and sincere abundant admiration.
“I’ve never met anyone like you Durgesh. You are unique.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan had also been invited.
It was called a yacht, but actually, it was a large ship having almost every facility, Ved Nagar itself had.
Muħammad bin Qāsim represented Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company there.
The ‘yacht’ glided smoothly up the bay.
The throb of the big Eīshān Vaigyānic motors and the thrust of the propellers gave the sense of grand power underneath.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan realized that Eīshān Vigyān is succeeding largely whether Pseudo Musalmīn liked it or not.
It was succeeding despite a grand hatred of Pseudo Musalmīn.
The Musalmān Beauties were utmost fervent to greet it.
“It guarantees and establishes our own too much required and ever demanded freedom and importance.” Nafīsah Salmān had warned him, “I know you are a great man, but we Musalmān Beauties are getting more from Durgesh and/or other Hindus than you Pseudo Musalmīn can even offer us. Al Qur’an Al Kareem doesn’t say not to marry non-Muslim males. Al Qur’an Al Kareem is never communal. It says only:
‘Wa lā tunkiħū al musharikīn ħattā yu’minū.’
‘And don’t marry polytheistic men to your women until they bring Īmān.’
−Al Qur’an Al Kareem: 2 Al Baqarah| 221
Durgesh is never a polytheist by any damn standard anyone may use, neither the other Vedic Monotheist Hindus are.”
“I agree with you, Nafīsah Salmān, word to word.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan, the great man of the time, said, “but what the damn difference my agreeing with you makes? Not even the slightest.”
“And you think we Musalmān Beauties should care for it? Have we damn cared ever of Pseudo Musalmīn? Are you suggesting us Musalmān Beauties too to turn communal as the Pseudo Musalmīn, after Yazīd Malåūn, turned in a hateful large number? We fought with the damn Yazīd Malåūnists ever and we would still continue our Jihad against them. If the Pseudo Musalmīn have surrendered to Yazīd Malåūn forever, damn them. We would keep fighting against Pseudo Musalmīn too with Durgesh and/or other Vedic Monotheist Hindus, with us. That’s what our daughter, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, is proposing as Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. What the hell else she is doing?”*
The teakwood decks, mahogany trim and comfortable deck chairs gave the passengers a sense of luxury, a quite enjoyment of the good things of life.
As Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī let me pilot around to meet the various guests, the lady lawyer realized that the multi zillionaire could hardly have selected a more propitious, a more favorable, occasion for compromising a potential lawsuit with Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company.
Most of the guests knew the ship, or yacht, whatsoever the guests wanted to call it, was actually a personal gift to me from Dévarshi Sadan of HVSI.
Brahmarshi Sadan of HVSI had gifted me a personal spaceship.
Maharshi sadan of HVSI had gifted me a personal latest hover HVSI limousine.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.
She knew the gifts were actually the exhibition of the Eīshān Vaigyānic, scientific, and financial power HVSI Group of Companies possessed globally today.
The personal gifts to the Chairman indicated the power the HVSI Group of Companies enjoyed now.
She had tried her best to convince her younger brother, Muħammad bin Qāsim, not to fight with HVSI Group of Companies.
Muħammad bin Qāsim was furious.
“HVSI Group of Companies is supporting Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan blindly.”
“Oh, you don’t approve of it?”
“Her own Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, doesn’t approve of her proposed Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
“She is now the new Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
“I know. Moreover, I know Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is after either purchasing the oil island or taking it on lease too as she has leased nine islands already.”
“For her 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.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī reminded him.
“She is establishing her damn Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah there.” Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted, “Can’t you see?”*
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī understood very well.
I not only did the environment make for friendly good feeling, but in the background, there was always a suggestion of financial power on my part sophisticatedly, yet ingeniously.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī acknowledged Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah and Muħammad Ůsmān.
The fact that Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī wasn’t only related to the Al Muħammad Al Qāsim family, being an elder sister of Muħammad bin Qāsim, but she was even representing Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company legally, had brought a glimpse of latent hostility in Muħammad Ůsmān’s eyes.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī noted it and smiled.
The damn fool didn’t deserve to lead any Company whatsoever.
He was unable to hide his inner emotions, even courteously.
How could the stupid survive in the corporate world of constant nonstop business strategies and Diplomacy?
Muħammad Ůsmān, evidently, didn’t relish the idea of having lawyers checking on him.
I had gone the limit to have everyone aboard who was at all interested, even to Zaynab Muħammad Åbdullah and her daughter, Shāhidah Muħammad Ůsmān.
Muħammad bin Qāsim was bubbling with youth and vigor, for a change.
Everyone who knew him, had never seen Muħammad bin Qāsim, in such a happy mood.
He was actually an incurable pessimistic.
It was really a surprise that he was bubbling with happiness, now.
Taufīq Fātimah, Muħammad bin Qāsim’s dynamic Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, met with me with even more bubbling youth and bliss, her husband was bubbling with.
She was twenty-eight, PhD, and definitely a lot smarter than Muħammad bin Qāsim was.
It was more than evident, Taufīq Fātimah married Muħammad bin Qāsim for his money, rather than for anything else.
She had golden hair, gray blue eyes and a friendly unspoiled manner.
I saw that cocktails were served.
“No business of any kind, please,” I smiled the warning, “Not until after dinner, if the honorable guests don’t mind. Then all of us concerned will sit down at the big table and discuss the matter in a friendly environment. No bitterness, however. I warn everyone. We are educated persons and we should act and behave mutually in a civilized manner. Any uncivilized act from anyone may cause him/her a great trouble, I warn everyone, please. It’s the first and last warning, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s hope I would have nothing to cause you trouble, because if I would have to, it would make the concerned person wish to die instead. Sorry for the hard talk, but it was necessary to warn you for once and all. Now, let’s relax and enjoy. My staff will take care of you all. Please don’t hesitate to tell them for anything you need. You are honorable guests of the Chairman of HVSI Group of Companies. Enjoy it optimum, please.”
I took them around on a tour of the yacht, showing them the various staterooms, mechanical gadgets and lounging rooms.*
I moved over to stand at the rail ultimately some time later.
I let the brisk breeze tingle me into a feeling of physical well-being.
We had left the bay behind and were now within the confines of the river.
The banks were less than a mile apart.
The pilot was guiding the ship between spar buoys that marked a rather treacherous channel.
The ship was moving forward at half-speed skimming through the water as smoothly as a game fish in a cool pool.
The day had been hot, dry, and cloudless.
Now, it was pleasant hot, not a scorching one.
Neither it was cold now.
The sky above was still a clear, deep blue.
I heard motion behind.
Then Muħammad bin Qāsim’s voice said.
“Jījū, you alone? What a miracle.”
“What do you mean, Sālé?”
“Not even a single sister of my infinite ones, is interested in you now. Isn’t it amazing?”
“You requested me to meet you here alone.”
“That’s right.” Muħammad bin Qāsim said gravely now, “Jījū, I think someone is trying to poison me, and deliberately trying to implicate and frame Taufīq Fātimah.”
“Yes, I myself suspect it.”
“Has Taufīq Fātimah talked with you about it?” Muħammad bin Qāsim asked me enthusiastically.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim, we only tease each other. We don’t have any extramarital affair mutually.”
“Well, I’ve seen her grabbing your Uncut Hindu Penis and you playing with her boobs and buttocks.”
“She is a successful Hollywood heroine, isn’t she?”
“She says she has done some porn movies with you.”
“And you believe her?” I laughed, “Idiot, she is either only teasing you or boasting.”
“You haven’t fucked her?”
“If you really care about these things, why the hell you married a Hollywood Star?”
“Well,” Muħammad bin Qāsim hesitated.
“You’ll laugh at me.”
“As if you care.”
“Yes, I do. I respect you, Jījū, very much. They call you ‘Nīlkanŧh’. I think it’s true. It needs too much manly vigor and indisputable bravery to give a chance to the women who have gone off track, either due to this way or due to that way.”
“It’s a drastic change in you, Muħammad bin Qāsim. Congratulations. Now, I think I should myself respect you.” I smiled at him appreciatively.
“You don’t need to. Instead, I need your help.”
“Someone is trying his/her best to poison me and implicate, frame, Taufīq Fātimah.”
I watched him.
“You suspect anyone.”
“I’m not actually a real son of my present Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim. I am an adopted son.”
“I am actually his cousin’s son. My real Abbū expired and my Ammī married my elder uncle, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.”
“I know that too.” I said patiently.
“I suspect some of my legal sisters now; my real cousins however, don’t like the idea of sharing their father’s property with me.”
“Keep this information to yourself, please. Abbū and Ammī, if they knew it ever, would be immensely depressed of my nudist feminist legal sisters/ real cousins.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim extended his hand to me.
He held a sealed envelope in him.
“This is my affidavit stating that ‘if something happens to me ever, due to poison or otherwise, and it appears that my wife Taufīq Fātimah is involved, it’s only because she is framed up. I am dead sure that my wife, Taufīq Fātimah, isn’t responsible in any manner for my death.’ Would you assure me to protect Taufīq Fātimah if I die?”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā
Tujhé Chodā Mainé
Aur chodtā rahūn tujhé hai bas yehī duā
‘The fifteen days of intense sex, love and lust’
Zohrah Kħān aur Nāziyah Kħān donon pāglon kī taraħ kħushī sé chīkħtī huī apnī Ammī kī taraf lapkīn.
Donon mein sé kisī ko bhī kħwāb mein bhī yah ummīd nahīn thī ki Ammījān is taraħ unsé khulkar baat karéngī.
“Tab to tum bhī sharm karo. Main Durgesh sé tum sé bhī pahlé sé chudvā rahī hūn.”
Donon béŧiyon ko abhī tak yaqīn nahīn ho rahā thā ki jo kuchh unhoné abhī kħud apné kānon sé sunā aur kħud apnī ānkhon sé dékhā thā, kya voh ħaqīqat thī?
Ammījān ne kyā vāqaåī unké sāmné yah ħaqīqat taslīm kī thī ki voh Nāziyah Kħān sé bhī pahlé sé Durgesh sé chudvā rahī hain?
Kyā vāqaåī voh tīnon Ammī béŧiyān Chudāī kī itnī shauqīn hain ki aaj unké bīch aapas mein is måmlé mein koī sharmo ħayā bhī nahīn rahī?
Zohrah Kħān aur Nāziyah Kħān donon Shabnam Kħān sé burī taraħ kichkichākar lipaŧ gaīn.
Shabnam Kħān ne bhī tamām sharmo ħayā chhođkar un donon ko apné kaléjé sé lagā liyā.
Ab yah zarūrī ho gayā thā.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan ab chāhtī thī ki tīnon Ammī béŧiyān khulkar sāmné aa jāyén aur Ashvinātam Ummat-e–Muslimah ké qyāam mein khulkar sāton taħrīkāt mein pakistanī Musalmān ħasīnāon kī rahnumāī karén.
Yah koī chhoŧī moŧī péshkash nahīn thī.
Bahut bađī péshkash thī.
Lifetime chance thā.*
Na Shabnam Kħān yah ħaqīqat taslīm karné ko taiyār thī, na Nāziyah Kħān aur na hī Zohrah Kħān ki mérī ħaqīqī ůmr is vaqt 63 saal ho chukī hai.
Main taintīs saal kā sirf dikhāī détā hūn, hūn nahīn.
Shabnam Kħān ko is par béħad naaz thā ki pooré 45 saal kī ho jaané par bhī voh 30 saal sé zyādah kī nazar hī nahīn aatī thī.
Jabki khud Zohrah Kħān 23 saal kī ho chukī thī aur Nāziyah Kħān 21 saal kī.
Nihāyat hī aħsānmandānā andāz mein apné donon goré nangé ħasīn kūlhé mérī sarvathā nagn Hindu goad mein samā diyé Shabnam Kħān né aur mera samūchā Uncut Hindu Lund poorā jađ tak apnī gorī dilkash Pakistani Musalmān Choot ké andar habak liyā.
Béħad kħush thī aaj Shabnam Kħān.
Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club mein stage par aaj voh pahlī martabah mujhsé sab ké sāmné chudvā rahī thī.
Uske ek taraf Zohrah Kħān thī aur doosrī taraf Nāziyah Kħān.
Durgesh aaj tamām kurra-e-zamīn kā sabsé muåzziz aur sabsé zyādah daulatmand shakħs taslīm kiyā ja chuka thā.
Aaj har ħasīn åurat Durgesh sé chudvāné ké liyé marī jātī thī aur har shakħs Durgesh ké talvé chāŧnā apnī sabsé bađī kħushqismatī samajhtā thā.
Sirf chand sarphiré Musalmān ħāsidīn ko chhođkar.
Aesé sarphiré Musalmīn kā dåvā thā ki Shankar Mahāpralayankar mérā sālā thā aur voh is vaqt kā sabsé bađā aur sabsé zyādah kāmyāb smuggler thā.
Yahan tak ki tamām Musalmān aur ghair Muslim smugglers darħaqīqat Shankar Mahāpralayankar ké liyé hī kaam karté thé.
Kyā sabūt thā is baat kā, ki jis taraħ baqiyah smugglers darħaqīqat Shankar Mahāpralayankar ké liyé kaam karté thé, Shankar Mahāpralayankar bhī darħaqīqat mere liyé hī kaam nahīn kartā thā?
Main press conference kar rahā thā.
Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club mein yah special Press Conference khud Press kī request par kī jā rahī thī.
“Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Waves kā āvishkār kyā aap né hī kiyā hai?” Binnāt-e-Islam kī reporter Ħayā Ħayāt ne sawāl kiyā.
“I’m sorry that I have to correct you, ma’am,” main muskurāyā, “in waves kā official name voh nahīn hai, jo abhī aap ne bayān farmāyā. Inka aslī naam Param Purush Ummmihātul Åālmīn Waves hai.”
Ħayā Ħayāt nihāyat hī dilkash andāz mein muskurāī,
“Lékin is Ījād mein aap kī Chief Assistant Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ aur aapkī Press Secretary Muħtarmā Kħātūn-e- Jannat Ħazrat Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Sāħibah to jab bhī in waves kā zikr kartī hain, inhén Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Waves hī kahā kartī hain.”
“Yah naam mérī Chief Assistant Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ aur mérī Press Secretary Muħtarmā Kħātūn-e- Jannat Ħazrat Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Sāħibah donon ko aur aap Press wālon ko zyādah pasand hai. Kyon pasand hai iskā kħulāsah to Baharħāl aap Ħazrāt hī zyādah bahtar taraħ sé kar saktī hain. Main iské mutålliq kyā årz kar saktā hūn?”
Ħayā Ħayāt phir muskurāī.
“Aap kī zyādahtar Ījādāt ké implementation mein Hindu Lund aur Muslim Chooton kā iståmāl hī zyādah sé zyādah huā kartā hai. Press iski wajah jān saktā hai?”
“Sure. Iskī wajah hai, availability aur competence.”
“Allah,” Ħayā Ħayāt hansī, “aap phir ek martabah apnī vahī purānī baat dohrā rahé hain, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, ki scientifically sirf Hindu Lund Muslim Choot hī most competent aur perfect jođī hai. Isn’t it?”
“Tantr yahī manta hai. Is āvishkār kā sambandh Tantr sé hai. Aur vaisé bhī itihās is baat kā gawāh hai ki scientifically sirf Hindu Lund Muslim Choot hī most competent aur perfect jođī hai.”
“Lékin iské bāwajūd aesā anékon martabah ho chuka hai ki jab koī naī Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theory implementation ké liyé aap ké sāmné pésh kī jātī hai, aap us Musalmān lađkī ko chodné sé inkār kar dete hain jo is tajurbé ké liyé aap ko pésh kī jātī hai.” ek mardānah āwāz aaī.
Āwāz pīchhé sé aaī thī.
Sabkī nigāhén qudratī taur par yah dékhné ké liyé pīchhé kī taraf ghūm gaīn ki yah baat ākħir kahī kisné thī.
Voh koī aŧŧhāis saal kā ek nihāyat hī dublā patlā chashmādhārī yuvak thā.
Uskī ānkhon mein téj thā aur chéhré par buddhimattā kī chap thī.
“Aap sirf apnī manpasand Musalmān Chooton kā hī iståmāl apné tajurbāt ké liyé kiyā karté hain. Doosron kī tajvījkardah Musalmān Chooton kā iståmāl karné kā risk aap kabhī nahīn uŧhāté. Aap kā yah aħtiyāt sābit kartā hai ki aap kī Ījādāt personality oriented hain. Immune to particular persons nahīn hain. Yånī voh har zamāné aur har jagah sach hon, yah zarūrī nahīn hai.”
Hall mein sannāŧā chhā gayā.*
Shabnam Kħān ghussé sé bolī,
“Yah mardūd apnī Musalmān bahanon, Musalmān béŧiyon, Musalmān bīviyon, aur apnī Musalmān girlfriends ko tum par thopnā chāhtā hai, tāki jab tum unko chodté hué kisī ījād mein kāmyāb ho’o, to voh tumhāré aglé tajurbāt ké lye tumhén blackmail kar saké.”
Nāziyah Kħān né apnī Ammī ko rokā,
“Ammī, yah Durgesh kī Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theories kī baat nahīn kar rahā. Isné Durgesh kī Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theories par apnī kħud kī Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theories develop kī hain aur yah chāhtā hai ki Durgesh iskī un Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theories par iskī tajvījkardah Musalmān ħasīnāon ko chodté hué kaam karé.”
Zohrah Kħān né bhī apnī chhoŧī bahan kā samarthan kiyā.
“Nāziyah ŧhīk kah rahī hai, Ammī.”
“Tum donon jāntī ho is lađké ko?” Shabnam Kħān né pūchhā.
“Kaun nahīn jāntā? Yah Muħammad bin Qāsim hai. Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company ké managing director Al Muħammad Al Qāsim kā iklautā béŧā. Yah apnī Musalmān girlfriends ko Durgesh sé chudvānā chāhtā hai. Durgesh iskī bahnon Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī aur Al Zakāt Al Qāsim kā boyfriend/live in relationship partner hai. Iskī Musalmān girlfriends is ħaqīqat kā fāydah uŧhākar Durgesh sé chudvānā chāhtī hain. Båqī sab sirf bahānā hai.” Nāziyah Kħān sard lahjé mein bolī.*
Shabnam Kħān ne apné donon nangé goré sudaul bhārī Musalmān kūlhé phir sé ŧhīk sé kaskar mérī sarvathā nagn Hindu purush goad mein samāyé, mérā burī taraħ ŧhanŧhanā rha Uncut Hindu Lund phir sé jađ tak apnī Pākistānī Sunnī Musalmān Choot ké andar habkā aur haulé sé muskurā dī.
The dream city.
Jahān voh khulkar stage par Durgesh sé chudvā rahī hai aur sab is par usko appreciate kar rahé hain, koī uskī mazammat nahīn kar rahā.
Isīliyé to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan sé yah samjhautā kiyā thā Shabnam Kħān né.
Apnī bépanāh Pākistānī Sunnī Musalmān Jawānī, apné bépanāh Pākistānī Sunnī Musalmān ħusn, par itnā zyādah naaz thā Shabnam Kħān ko ki voh usé tamām kāynāt-e-kul mein khulkar nangī ghūm ghūm kar har kisī ko dikhānā chāhtī thī, har kisī par is måmlé mein apnī bartarī sābit karné ké liyé.
Isī silsilé mein Shabnam Kħān kī mulāqāt ek nude beach mein pahlé Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan sé aur phir Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan ké zariyé mujhsé huī thī.*
Jabīn Kħān bhī apnī bađī bahan, Shabnam Kħān, sé kuchh kam kħūbsūrat nahīn thī, lékin Jabīn Kħān Shabnam Kħān kī taraħ nudist nahīn thī.
Shabnam Kħān kī taraħ nude beach mein nangī ghūmnā na Jabīn Kħān ko pasand thā, na hī Shoeb Kħān ko.
Lékin Shabnam Kħān ké sāth nude beach par nangī ghūmné ké liyé inkār karnā bhī Jabīn Kħān ko pasand nahīn thā.
Shoeb Kħān né hanskar kahā thā,
“Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah, ab béchāré Shoeb Kħān kī kħair nahīn.”
Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah muskurākar bolī thien,
“Aapko bhī na, har vaqt mazāq sūjhtā rahtā hai.”
“Wallah, Sarkār, kħādim kī jurrat nahīn ho saktī apnī Rabb-e-ħayāt sé mazāq kar sakné kī.”
“Aré, kyon gunahgār banā rahé hain laundī ko apnī Rabb-e-ħayāt kahkar? Main sirf sharīk-e-ħayāt hūn aapkī. Rabb-e-ħayāt to har kisī kā sirf Mālik-e-yaumuddīn hai.”
“Bajā farmāyā aapné.” Shoeb Kħān né ek gahrī sāns lī, “lékin Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah, aap ké is tābédār ko is baat kā afsos zarūr rahégā ki ab aap hamārī sharīk-e-ħayāt bhī nahīn rahīn poorī taraħ.”
“Mainé kħud apné pairon par kulhāđī maar lī. Kħud yah ħaq dé diyā aapko ki jākar Durgesh kā Uncut Hindu Lund pakađ lén.”
Jabīn Kħān muskurā dīn,
“Voh to hai. Hamāré Hindu dāmād Sāħab kā Uncut Hindu Lund hai to vāqaåī unique aur legendary.”
Shoeb Kħān kā chéhrā utar gayā.
“Pasand āyā na āpko?”
“Béħad. Sach kahūn? Main to hamāré Hindu dāmād Sāħab, Durgesh, ké Uncut Hindu Lund par usī vaqt mar miŧī thī jab mainé Shāhīn ko pahlī martabah Durgesh sé chudvāté dékhā thā.”*
Apnī béŧī ko mujhsé chudvāté pahlī martabah jab Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah, Jabīn Kħān, né dékhā thā, to Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah ké ‘kħādim’, Shoeb Kħān, bhī apnī ‘Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah’ ké sāth thé.
Ék martabah phir poorī koshish kī thī Jabīn Kħān né unkī cut Musalmān nūnī khađī karné kī.
Aur ék martabah phir voh burī taraħ nākām rahī thien.
Shoeb Kħān ko kabhī sex sé bahut zyādah dilchaspī rahī ho, aesā to kħair, kabhī bhī nahīn thā.
Jabīn Kħān né kabhī kahā nahīn thā apné munh sé, lékin sach yah thā ki apné az-e-ħad shāistah Musalmān shauhar sé Jabīn Kħān burī taraħ paréshān thien.
Hazāron martabah taraħ taraħ sé darkħvāst karné par bhī Shoeb Kħān né Jabīn Kħān ko kabhī roshnī mein nahīn chodā thā.
Aaj unkī béŧī, Shāhīn Kħān, din kī bharpūr roshnī mein Durgesh sé chudvā rahī thī.
Kaisī åjīb baat thī!
Yah ‘Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah’, Jabīn Kħān kī zindagī kā pahlā lund thā jisé voh pratyax dékh rahī thien.
Apné shauhar kī cut Musalmān nūnī tak nahīn dékhī thī Jabīn Kħān né pratyaxtah kabhī iské pahlé.
Shoeb Kħān né unhén jab bhī chodā thā, tārīkī mein hī chodā thā.
To aesā hotā hai lund darasal?
Jabīn Kħān ħairān thien ki unhén kħud apnī hī béŧī kī kħushqismatī sé rashk ho rahā thā.
Bahut sharm aa rahī thī Jabīn Kħān ko is baat par ki unkā rom rom yah chāh rahā thā, kaash, Shāhīn Kħān kī jagah voh kħud hotīn.
Durgesh unkā dāmād hai.
Kaisé soch saktī hain Jabīn Kħān ki voh kħud apnī béŧī kī saut ban jāyén?
Satīsh né kitnā bađā dhokah diyā thā Shāhīn Kħān ko.
Aur ab jab Shāhīn Kħān is sadmé sé bāhar nikāl pāī hai to Jabīn Kħān kħud…
Qayāmat tak hargiz nahīn.*
Call Bell ké jawāb mein kħud Kħālidah Kħān né darwāzah kholā.
Ék bār phir mujhé lagā ki voh Kħālidah Kħān nahīn thī.
Kħud uskī juđwān bahan Jabīn Kħān hī thien.
Léshmātr bhī to farq nahīn thā tīnon bahnon mein.
Shabnam Kħān, Jabīn Kħān aur Kħālidah Kħān tīnon hamshakl thien.
Shabnam Kħān 45 saal kī thī lékin tīs sé zyādah kī hargiz nazar nahīn ātī thī.
Log Shabnam Kħān ko Zohrah Kħān aur Nāziyah Kħān kī bađī bahan samajhté thé, Ammī nahīn.
Yahī ħālat Jabīn Kħān aur Kħālidah Kħān kī bhī thī.
35 saal kī thien Jabīn Kħān aur Kħālidah Kħān donon, lékin un donon ko bhī koī tīs sé zyādah kī hargiz nahīn kah saktā thā.
Mérā apnā anubhav, mérā apnā tajurbah, is måmlé mein yah thā ki aksar Musalmān ħasīnāyén is måmlé mein kuchh zyādah hī kħushqismat hotī thien.
Unkā dåvā thā ki iskī wajah unkā Panjvaqtah Namāzī aur burqah pahanné wālī honā thā.
Kħālidah Kħān Crime Prevention ké apné mission ké ħawālé junūn kī taraħ thī.
Har voh shakħs jo corrupt thā, chāhé voh sarkārī ho, ardh-sarkārī yā phir ghair-sarkārī, Kħālidah Kħān kā shikār thā.
Yah sirf mérā hī nahīn, bahut sāré patrkāron kā bhī andāzah thā ki Kħālidah Kħān naam kī koī åurat kahīn thī hī nahīn.
Crime Prevention ké apné nihāyat hī kħatarnāk junūn kī wajah sé Jabīn Kħān hī Kħālidah Kħān ké pen name sé wahān Kħālidah Kħān bankar rah rahī thī.
Kħālidah Kħān/Jabīn Kħān né mujhé drawing room mein biŧhālā.
Tīn bedroom thé us flat mein.
Kħālidah Kħān/Jabīn Kħān né apné bedroom ké bāzū wālé bedroom ko apnā office banā rakhā thā.
Aesā Kħālidah Kħān né kyon kar rakhā thā, yah mujhé nahīn målūm thā.
Voh us poorī ĭmārat kī mālkin thī, kirāyédār nahīn.
Kahīn bhī apnā office banā saktī thī.
Baghal ké flat mein Kħālidah Kħān kī secretary, Jannat-e- Firdaus rahtī thī.
Kħālidah Kħān kī apnī website thī jis par Kħālidah Kħān har mahīné do baar, har pakhwāđé, aisé logon kī Black List jārī kartī thī jo uskī taftīsh ké mutābiq corrupt hoté thé.
Sabhī sambandhit vibhāgon aur officials sé Kħālidah Kħān kā yah anurodh bhī us website mein hotā thā ki voh aisé logon ko investigate karén aur agar jo kuchh Kħālidah Kħān né unké kħilāf apnī website par likhā thā, usko sach pāyén to unké kħilāf case chalāyén.
Kħālidah Kħān kī taraf muskurā kar dékhā mainé.
“Kaisé yād kiyā mérī sarkār?”
“Kyā kaisé yād kiyā?” Kħālidah Kħān shikāyat bharī āwāz mein bolī, “kabhī milté hī nahīn ho, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam?”
“Jo kah rahī ho, soch samajh kar kah rahī ho, yā yūn hī apnī zabān ko dhār dé rahī ho?”
“Tumhārā kyā kħayāl hai, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt?” Kħālidah Kħān lagāwaŧ bharī, mastī bharī āwāz mein bolī.
“Mérā kħayāl hai ki dhār hī dé rahī ho tum apnī zabān ko.”
“Allah ré badqismatī.” Kħālidah Kħān né ék ŧhandī sāns lī.
“Sālī, yā to main sachmuch hī tum Musalmān ħasīnāon kā Hindu Kħasam nahīn hūn, yā phir tū Musalmān nahīn hai.”
“Donon bātén hain, Kħasam, donon bātén hain.” Kħālidah Kħān né ék sard aah bharī, “tum hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam bhī ho, aur main Musalmān bhī hūn. Lékin main ék måmūlī Musalmān åurat hūn, koī Musalmān ħasīnah vasīnah nahīn hūn. Hotī to tumhārī donon jānghon ké darmyān mujhé Mukesh Ambani kā residential house na dikhāī dé rahā hotā, jo Jabīn Kħān ko dékhté hī fauran wajūd mein aa jātā hai tumhārī donon ŧāngon ké darmyān.”
“Utnī dūr sé kyā dékh pāyégī ki kaisī krānti ho rahī hai yahān? Yahān aa kar mérī goad mein baiŧhkar dékh téré swāgat kā yahān kaisā shāndār intejām hai.”
Kħālidah Kħān nihāyat hī makkārī ké sāth muskurāī.
“Yånī haméshah kī taraħ aaj bhī yah faislah nahīn kar pā rahé ho, ki main Kħālidah Kħān hūn, yā Jabīn Kħān. Agar main tumhārī dåvat par vāqaåī tumhārī goad mein aa kar baiŧh gaī, to main Kħālidah Kħān, varnā Jabīn Kħān, no?”*
Main us kambakħt ko ānkh marker muskurāyā.
“Samajhdār to ho tum abhī bahnén.”
Voh bhī jawāb mein mujhé ānkh marker muskurāī.
“Koī aur tarīqā nikālo hum donon juđwān bahnon ko alag alag pahchān sakné kā. Yah tarīqā ab purānā ho chukā. Ab Jabīn Kħān bhī baiŧh saktī hai tumhārī goad mein.”
“Mat māno. Lékin ħaqīqat yah hai ki Jabīn Kħān kī zindagī mein bhī is darmyān ék inqalāb aa chukā hai. Shoeb Kħān Bhāījān kā ab Jabīn Kħān kī tamām koshishon ké bāwajūd hargiz khađā nahīn hotā.”
“Chaunk gayé na?” Voh mujhé phir ānkh marker muskurāī, “Tumné kabhī kħwāb mein bhī nahīn sochā hogā ki kħud Jabīn Kħān bhī tumsé chudvā saktī hai, aur voh bhī pāglon kī taraħ, jitnā tum chāho utnā, jab tak tum chāho, tab tak.”*
Main talkħ lahjé mein bolā,
“Sālī, bol to aésé rahī hai jaisé kħud shabo roz, raat din sé, aharnish, nonstop day and night mujhsé chudvātī rahtī ho, aur main hī tujhé chodné sé katrāyā kartā hoūn.”
“Aré, main to kab sé tumsé chudvāné ké liyé tađap rahī hūn. Lékin tum ho ki kabhī mujhé apnā Uncut Hindu Lund pakađné tak nahīn dété.”
“Shut up, Sālī, jhūŧhī. Kħūb munh kī pakpak karné lagī hai. Aa aakar mérī goad mein baiŧh.”
Usné sharārat sé apnā nichlā honŧh chubhlāyā,
“Soch lo. Sachmuch aakar baiŧh gaī to phir kħūb jī bharkar chudvāyé baghair main nahīn uŧhné wālī. Aur phir na kahnā ki main lāintehā pyāsī thī. Mujhé mere shauhar sé alahdah hué ‘ék zamānā beet gayā’.”
Yah ākħirī fiqrah Kħālidah Kħān né ék tarannum mein kahā thā.
“You are Jabīn Kħān.” main hanstā huā bolā, “tum sirf zabānī smart talk sé kaam chalā rahī ho. Kħālidah Kħān hotīn to mérī itnī dåvat par kabhī kī aakar mérī goad mein baiŧh chukī hotīn.”
“Achchhā? Kħālidah Kħān kyā shabo roz baiŧhī rahtī hai tumhārī goad mein?”
“Sālī ék baar bhī nahīn baiŧhī abhī tak mérī goad mein. Eīshān!Eīshān! kin purāné kħayālāt kī béwaqūf Musalmān åuraton ké bīch phans gayā hai yah Hindu Sambhog Samrāŧ, yah Hindu Chudāī Samrāŧ. Sāliyon ko koī qadr hī nahīn hai is baat kī ki mérā Uncut Hindu Lund kab sé khađā ho kar burī taraħ ŧhanŧhanā rahā hai.”
“What do you mean ‘purāné kħayālāt kī béwaqūf Musalmān åuratén?” Kħālidah Kħān kichkichākar bolī, “Main to is baat kā lihāj kar rahī thī ki tum mérī niece Shāhīn Kħān ké boyfriend ho. ‘purāné kħayālāt kī béwaqūf Musalmān åuratén? Tumhārī to main…ab tumhāré Uncut Hindu Lund kī kħair nahīn. Samjhé? Ék baar ghuséđā to nikālné nahīn dūngī qayāmat tak. Chalo, aa jāo maidān mein.”
Kħālidah Kħān dhamm sé mérī goad mein aa baiŧhī.*
Main uskī is sarvathā apratyāshit ħarkat ké liyé léshmātr bhī taiyār nahīn thā.
Mujhé poorā yaqīn thā ki voh Jabīn Kħān hī hai.
Kħālidah Kħān kā koī wajūd nahīn hai.
Jabīn Kħān hī Kħālidah Kħān bankar double role kar rahī hai.
Isliyé main Jabīn Kħān ko chāhé kitnā hī kyon na uksāūn, voh baharħāl mérī goad mein aakar baiŧhné wālī nahīn hai.
Mérī tamām theory rakhī rah gaī thī aur Jabīn Kħān goad mein aa baiŧhī thī.
Agar voh vāqaåī Jabīn Kħān thī to.
Mérī Hindu purush goad burī taraħ jhulas uŧhī thī.
Jabīn Kħān ké sudaul Musalmān kūlhé mérī Hindu purush goad mein burī taraħ kaskar samā gayé thé.
Voh is taraħ burī taraħ kaskar fit baiŧh gayé thé mérī Hindu purush goad mein jaisé voh kħās taur par mérī Hindu purush goad kā sānchā lékar vahīn samāné ké liyé banāyé gayé hon.
Kitnā perfect size thā unkā.
Tabhī is baat kā ék aur sabūt ħāsil huā mujhé ki mérī goad mein is vaqt Jabīn Kħān hī baiŧhī huī thien, koī Kħālidah Kħān nahīn.
Mérā unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund Jabīn Kħān ké hasīn Musalmān kūlhon ké bīch hī samāyā huā burī taraħ phanphanā rahā thā, kisī Kħālidah Kħān ké kūlhon ké bīch nahīn.
Kħālidah Kħān aur uskī secretary, Jannat-e- Firdaus, ké flats ko bīch sé jođné wālā darwāzah khulā thā aur Jannat-e- Firdaus wahān sé andar dākħil huī thī.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The train had come to a stop.
Doors glided open.
Porters stood helping passengers off the train.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd stood looking first to the left, then to the right.
A woman got off the train, stood looking around as though expecting to meet someone, started to walk toward the depot, paused, turned and walked toward Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.
“Waħīdah!” the woman said.
“Why, Ammījān!” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd exclaimed with entirely unanticipated extremely pleasant surprise. “Allah! Good heavens, I didn’t recognize you. Even your own daughter couldn’t recognize you! What have you done to yourself? Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah!”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and I exchanged glances.
“Allah Allah! Good Lord, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd? Al Nadīm Al Quddūs’s first wife? I’ll be damned.”*
Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd smiled at her daughter.
“Hey, don’t tell me my new Hindu husband, my new Hindu Kħasam, didn’t tell you how miraculously he has transformed me.”
“Well, he told me,” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd managed to control somewhat her still miraculously extremely pleasant surprise, “but I could never imagine… Ammījān, you look only my elder sister now. None can ever guess you are my real Ammī. It’s just a miracle, Ammī. You’ve really taken off weight.”
“Thirty five pounds.” Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd said, “I’m down to a hundred and twenty one and I’m going to stay that way. I’ve learned the hard way what happens to a woman when she lets her figure go.”
“Let Abbū see you and…”
Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd interrupted her daughter in the middle,
“Allah, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, don’t tell me you still care for that bastard. He divorced a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān immensely faithful wife, for a hostess, for a shill who put on daringly cut evening gowns that were tight and clinging and circulated around the gambling tables here in Las Vegas, Nevada.”
Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd was immensely angry.
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd could understand very well what her Ammī was suffering through mentally.
“That’s why I requested you to meet somewhere else. But you insisted.”
“I lost my husband here. I want to celebrate my new private life exactly here to wipe out my memories of nonstop mental torture. You perhaps don’t know the bastard is also coming here to request me not to allow you to live in relationship with Durgesh. Hahaha. A thoroughly immoral husband is impersonating a thoroughly moral father now.”
I entered the room Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Safiyah Al Ghaus were waiting for me in.
It was mellow, rich, with subdued sunlight filtering through pearl gray drapes.
There was wall-to-wall oyster-shell-colored carpeting on the floor.
The chairs were deep and comfortable.
The whole room was esthetically decorated.
It gave the impression that it had been designed for living, rather than to conform, to imitate, to any particular style of interior decoration.
“Beautifully decorated.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said as I entered there.
“Thank you.” I smiled, “But the credit goes to your friend Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, not to me.”
“I don’t think Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and you are two different persons.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus cooed.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“Thank you, Al Safiyah.”
“I’m sorry that you two, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and you, have differences of opinions.”
“Don’t be so modest ever.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said furiously, “Your ‘father in law’ has clearly accused Al Safiyah Al Ghaus that she has murdered her previous husband.”
“It was his opinion, darling, not mine. How can I answer for him?”
“I think I need to talk with Al Zakāt Al Qāsim about it.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched me significantly.
“The question is why did your friend break Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd’s home?”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus watched me suggestively.
“Al Nadīm Al Quddūs went to me in Las Vegas, Nevada. I didn’t go to him.” she said somewhat acidly, “moreover, the life I was living wasn’t a dignified life. It was my compulsion, not my choice. Why the hell I shouldn’t grab an opportunity to lead a respectful life with a millionaire if I could?”
“Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd should herself blame for what happened.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said curtly, “How the hell she thought Al Nadīm Al Quddūs woud not react to as a dazzling Musalmān Beauty as Al Safiyah Al Ghaus? How did Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd forget she was herself a dazzling Musalmān Beauty when Al Nadīm Al Quddūs married her? It’s a world of bitter competition. Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd should have maintained her beauty herself. Why the hell did she forget to watch her married life to be safe if she could?”*
I smiled at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan ironically.
“You mean every Musalmān Beauty is justified in breaking the other Musalmān Beauty’s home, if she is leading the hard and degrading life as Al Safiyah Al Ghaus did?”
“Al Safiyah Al Ghaus could do it because Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd lost her interest in keeping her Musalmān husband properly.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said curtly, “Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd took her husband for granted to be devoted to her only because he was married to her. Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd stopped watching her own figure despite knowing very well the polygamous nature of a man. It was her own mistake and she paid for it.”
“You haven’t any sympathy for Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd?”
“I have more sympathy for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said tersely.
“Because Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was suffering more in Las Vegas, Nevada?”
“Because Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was suffering more in Las Vegas, Nevada.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan repeated despite my smirk, “Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd was already a honorable housewife. Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was not. It was natural for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus that she tried to improve her personal life.”
“And Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was the only man available to Al Safiyah Al Ghaus?” I kept smirking.*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled curtly.
“Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was the immediate man available. Al Safiyah Al Ghaus didn’t love him. He was the only immediate man available to her who could help her for getting rid off that rather undignified life she was compelled to lead.”
I watched Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim suspected I was fucking her.
I didn’t contradict him.
It was useless.
The reputation Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ, Åāýéshah Siddīqah, Kħadījah Muħammad, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her now famous/infamous 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, had built up for me, never allowed anyone to believe ever that, a Musalmān Beauty was available to me and I never fucked her.*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus awoke in her luxurious Ved Nagar mansion.
She pressed a button to open the electrically controlled drapes.
She was confronted by the side of a young man.
Vikram Bachhalyā was clad in a white T-shirt and exquisite jeans.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus struggled to sit up, buzzing for Musarrat Kħālid, her secretary.
At the same time Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was flinging on a marabou trimmed silk robe and pressing her feet into dusty pink mules.
Vikram Bachhalyā stretched himself and strolled casually out of view.
“Musarrat Kħālid,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus called, “where the hell are you?”
Musarrat Kħālid appeared, inscrutable, calm and anxious to her mistress’s calls.
She appreciated Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Most of the Ved Nagar film industry wives screamed at their secretaries.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus never did it.
She was always sophisticated.
What a pleasant exception Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was to the other Ved Nagar film industry wives.
The same Hollywood wives were there.
The same Bollywood wives were there.
The same Lollywood wives were there.
The same Tollywood wives were there.
Yet, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was quite different with them.
“There was Vikram Bachhalyā out by the pool. I wonder what the Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim’s Hindu husband was doing there. A Bachhalyā rarely loves a Musalmān Beauty. All the Bachhalyās are crazily obsessed with the Brāhmañ Beauties. You know that, Musarrat Kħālid, don’t you?”
Musarrat Kħālid smiled patiently,
“Durgesh is also a Bachhalyā, ma’am.”
“There are exceptions too, to every general attitude we notice about others.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled patiently too, “Don’t you think so?”
“That’s good. Make sure all the doors are locked.”
Musarrat Kħālid nodded,
She began to collect debris of clutter from Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s bedside table. Dirty Kleenex, a half finished glass of wine, a rifled box of chocolates.
“Musarrat,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus addressed her again.
“Don’t get excited, Señora.” Musarrat Kħālid said stoically, “Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim ma’am is not feeling good. She requested Vikram Bachhalyā, her husband…”
Musarrat Kħālid even couldn’t complete her sentence.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me that before?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus scolded Musarrat Kħālid and flung herself into her bathroom.
She slammed the door so hard that a framed print sprang off the wall and crashed to the floor.
Dumb ass woman.
It was impossible to get good help anymore.
They came. They went.
They did not give a damn even if you were raped and ravaged in your own home.
And this would have to happen while Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was away on location.
Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim would never have dared to pretend to be sick if Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was here.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus flung off her robe, slipped out of her nightgown, and stepped under the invigorating sharpness of an ice cold shower.
She gritted her teeth.
Cold shower was best for the skin.
It tightened everything up.
Allah målūm, God knows, even with the gym and yoga and the modern dance class it still all needed tightening.
No, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus wasn’t fat even a bit.
She knew very well how incredibly beautiful she was.
People were either jealous or crazy of her incredible Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Beauty.
She was aware of it.
She knew it was her greatest weapon in this damn male dominated world.
Her brother in law, her dévar, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, hated the ground Al Safiyah Al Ghaus walked on, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus knew.
But what can the damn fool do?
He is claiming now Al Safiyah Al Ghaus has murdered her former husband.
But can the moron explain why the hell she worked as a hostess before marrying Al Nadīm Al Quddūs?
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled.
She wasn’t born yesterday.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim still has a long way to understand what Al Safiyah Al Ghaus really was.
The life had taught her more than it taught Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled shrewdly.
She lived now in a six bedroomed, seven bathroomed, Ved Nagar Film Industry palace.
On the flats too.
Not stuck up in the hills.
On the flats.
Prime real Estate.
Her extraordinary devastating Musalmān beauty is perfectly being taken care of.
Her hair was a rich brown, cut short and tipped with golden streaks.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān skin was alabaster white and smooth.
Thanks to regular facials.
Her teeth were white and even.
She was prudent enough never to stop reading and learning.
Most of the Ved Nagar film industry wives criticize Al Safiyah Al Ghaus that she reads so much.
They didn’t understand its benefits.
Moreover, the proud Musalmān Beauties neither wanted to read and keep on improving themselves as Al Safiyah Al Ghaus did without failure nonstop.
Most of the Ved Nagar film industry wives used to read Hollywood stuff only.
‘Vogue’, ‘People’, ‘Us’.
They skimmed the trades, ‘Variety’ and ‘Hollywood Reporter’.
Wasn’t Ronald Regan elected the President?
If they can do it, why the hell can’t Al Nadīm Al Quddūs even?
Yes, he isn’t a star as Ronald Regan.
But he is a first class screenplay writer.
He can dream wonderfully.
He was one of the best dreamers in Ved Nagar Film Industry, Hollywood, Bollywood, Lollywood and Tollywood.
His screenplays were always stupendous hits.
After Salim Javed Al Nadīm Al Quddūs has also made a writer a star.*
Despite frantic and desperate attempts from Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus knew how obsessed Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was with her.
He deliberately chose to marry a gambling house hostess, a shill, from Las Vegas, Nevada.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus knew it was the only place she could impress the then successful screenplay writer of Ved Nagar Film Industry.
He could be a stepladder for her to fulfill her dreams.
She could easily make it with a dreamer.
The realists were not for her.
They love money/ career/life more than they love anything else.
Durgesh is a realist.
Yes, he is a dreamer too.
But he is a realist dreamer.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wasn’t a realist at all.
He was only a dreamer.
He could be a stepladder for her.
He has his own mission.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus has her own mission.
Durgesh could help her in her mission, but not as a stepladder.
Durgesh is too prudent, too realistic.
It was a big mansion, Al Lubnā Al Qāsim lived in with her Bachhalyā Hindu husband, Pratāp Bachhalyā.
The house was one of the show places of Ved Nagar.
It had side porches, spacious grounds, shade trees, lawns, summerhouses, terraces, winding walks and swimming pools.
It was a vast exquisite dwelling.
It showed, rather exhibited, the multi millions Pratāp Bachhalyā and his extremely beautiful wife, Al Lubnā Al Qāsim, possessed.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī turned my limousine in at the driveway.
Together with the big garage, the driveway was itself magnificent.
The hard surfaced driveway cut through in a businesslike straight line past the winding walks that followed the contours of the terraced grounds.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, the ambitious sister of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, now a successful lawyer herself, stopped my limousine.
She rang the bell second time before we heard confident steps, knees, elbows and palms, and then the door was opened by extremely beautiful Al Lubnā Al Qāsim and Pratāp Bachhalyā themselves.
Al Lubnā Al Qāsim smiled at her elder sister.
She was their lawyer despite she was an integral part of HVS Law Internationals now.
The Al Qāsims still had their faith in their own blood?
I didn’t know.
Al Lubnā Al Qāsim was similarly on her knees and elbows as her elder sister, Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, was.
Pratāp Bachhalyā was fucking Al Lubnā Al Qāsim from her gorgeous behind as I was fucking Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī.
It was Ved Nagar.
Nonstop sophisticated fucking was entirely legal and normal here.
It was in India, but it was a largely privileged Global City, rather Inter Universal to be more correct and more specific.
“Welcome,” Pratāp Bachhalyā and Al Lubnā Al Qāsim smiled, “Come in, please.”
“Bhābhījān, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs Bhāījān, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim and Vikram Bachhalyā…”
Al Lubnā Al Qāsim interrupted Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī in her mid sentence.
“They all have already come. You are rather late.”*
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī and I followed Al Lubnā Al Qāsim and Pratāp Bachhalyā.
The room we entered in, was thoroughly in keeping with the rest of the house.
It was a large spacious library.
Both Al Lubnā Al Qāsim and her husband, Pratāp Bachhalyā, were great believers in reading and keeping themselves update.
So were Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī and I.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī was not my live in relationship partner exactly.
She was my friend and sister in law, my Salhaj, actually.
Yet, we fucked now openly.
Even her husband appreciated our exquisite fucking.
The entire Al Qāsim sisters were thoroughly devastating Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Beauties.
I smiled at Pratāp Bachhalyā.
“You are one of the luckiest men, Pratāp. Your wife is really a devastating Musalmān Beauty. Congratulations.”
Pratāp Bachhalyā smiled graciously.
“Thank you very much.”
In the center of the library, there was a massive mahogany table.
There were three huge table lamps on the table.
The shades were some four feet in diameter at the bottom.
They were composed of heavy leather.
The clustered lamps on the interior poured fourth illumination upon the huge table and sprayed light out through the openings in the tops of the shades.
Six chairs had been drawn up at the table.
Three of them were occupied.
The fourth was evidently occupied by Al Lubnā Al Qāsim and Pratāp Bachhalyā.
Evidently, they were fucking on the fourth chair, as Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim and Vikram Bachhalyā were still fucking on the third.
The fifth chair was occupied by Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
The last sixth chair was occupied by Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus and Al Nadīm Al Quddūs were also husband and wife.
Yet they were sitting on separate chairs fully clothed.
“Hey,” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī laughed at them, “aren’t you too husband and wife?”
“Sure we are.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said curtly, “But I am neither Vikram Bachhalyā nor Pratāp Bachhalyā. I am Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. Remember?”
Vikram Bachhalyā fucking Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim and Pratāp Bachhalyā fucking Al Lubnā Al Qāsim laughed.
Both the younger sisters of Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim and Al Lubnā Al Qāsim laughed too.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was shamelessly not embarrassed.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked shameful of herself.
“Sorry, Al Hudā , your cousin is a finicky. He doesn’t care ever even a bit how embarrassed and shameful I am feeling myself, as if my husband has died or divorced me already. His backward morals…”
“Backward morals hell,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said curtly, “I am not an ever sexy Hindu. And you knew it very well before you married me. Didn’t you?”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Fātimah Al Zohrah enjoyed a wonderful relationship with her Ammī over the years, but for some reason I, her Stepdad; and Fātimah Al Zohrah just clicked on a higher level.
I was her role model because of my intelligence, strength, and integrity.
Fātimah Al Zohrah looked up to me with complete admiration for as long as she could remember.
We also enjoyed joking and teasing one another, which we loved but her Ammī thought it, was childish.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was a senior executive with a major insurance company based in the mid-western US.
Given her background, I always stressed prudent financial planning to her.
When she began making decent money I encouraged her to purchase her first home rather than wasting money on rent.
With the help of a realtor, herAmmī, I and Fātimah Al Zohrah looked at a number of houses before she found one Fātimah Al Zohrah liked.
It needed lots of work and updating, but she said it had, “Good bones,” so I made an offer and before long it was mine.
Thankfully, both her Ammī and I volunteered to guide on her numerous projects.
Consequently, Fātimah Al Zohrah was not now alone on her own.
Fātimah Al Zohrah wanted to jump right in and make major changes, but didn’t have a lot of money to spend after the down payment.
She refused politely and quite respectfully any financial help from any one of us too, despite our persistent and ever insistent attempts even.
“Let me be self made, please, will you?” she pleaded all of us.
We hadn’t another option except to surrender to her immense self respect, self pride and self confidence.
Everyone of us wished good luck to her ultimately.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said the easiest and cheapest way to alter the house was a fresh coat of paint all around.
Therefore, after moving in, Fātimah Al Zohrah worked with her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, to pick out colors for both inside and out.
Since it was summer, Kħadījah Al Kubrā suggested we begin with the outdoor painting and could do the indoor later as the weather became more inclement.
Shortly after Fātimah Al Zohrah settled in, her Ammī and I came down the next weekend and we all jumped into working on the house.
Fātimah Al Zohrah and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan were going to paint the outside while Kħadījah Al Kubrā cleaned and put things away inside.
I helped Fātimah Al Zohrah and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
They were not exactly friendly ever.
Yet Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had offered her help to Fātimah Al Zohrah.
I wanted to imply to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan that despite her never tired constant attempts to bring only Jet Musalmān Beauties in my sexual life and almost remove mature Musalmān Beauties as many as she could, I do still appreciate her attempts to improve her relations with my other stepdaughters that hated Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was the ever first President of Modern Democratic Årabia now.
Yet, she wanted to improve her relations with Fātimah Al Zohrah.
I certainly wanted to help her.
The home was only 1,300 square feet.
We figured it wouldn’t take long to finish the outside, even though it needed a lot of prep work.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Fātimah Al Zohrah and I worked side by side in the hot sun.
I was between both of them.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan deliberately squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis significantly whenever she could manage it.
Fātimah Al Zohrah deliberately avoided to see Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s such open bold sexual activities with me.
She never appreciated Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan seduced me herself and now she is successfully maintaining her live in relationship with me openly.
Although it was a dirty work Fātimah Al Zohrah insisted to do it herself, and we were only helping in Fātimah Al Zohrah.
Fātimah Al Zohrah had as much fun as was possible given the situation.
We had a radio playing outside, and we both, Fātimah Al Zohrah and I, took turns changing the station to something we liked.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was more interested in her sexual activities with me.
She was an incurable Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Sex goddess.
My Uncut Hindu Lund was her constant need.
Well, less or more I was also exactly what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was in these matters.
I was also an incurable sex god myself.
A Musalmān Cunt was also my constant need to bury my Uncut Hindu Lund deepest into.
It wasn’t fair for me to blame Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan consequently.
I kept sneaking radio back to a classic rock station, while Fātimah Al Zohrah preferred more modern, danceable tunes.
Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, stepped out to check on us at one point, just after I had changed the station again.
I playfully slapped Fātimah Al Zohrah’s butt with the back of her scraper.
It drew an immediate response from her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā.
“Stop flirting with Durgesh and let him get some work done,” Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, said indignantly somewhat.
It candidly, truthfully, stunned Fātimah Al Zohrah.
Had it been anyone else in the world, what we were doing would clearly have been seen as flirting, but this was Fātimah Al Zohrah for goodness sakes.
Did her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, really believe Fātimah Al Zohrah was flirting with Durgesh or was she just joking?
Fātimah Al Zohrah felt her face go red and moved away to work in silence, but she couldn’t get the word ‘flirt’ out of her head.
Was Fātimah Al Zohrah the family flirt?
Fātimah Al Zohrah let me play my rock station the rest of the day, and remained fairly quiet thereafter.
When Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, and I left late in the day, Fātimah Al Zohrah showered and went to bed early.
Unfortunately, Fātimah Al Zohrah could not get what her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, said out of her mind.
She kept thinking about her relationship with me.
I was by far the most important man in her life, and someone Fātimah Al Zohrah admired like no other.
Fātimah Al Zohrah loved me to death, but Fātimah Al Zohrah was left pondering if it somehow could be more than that.
Was Fātimah Al Zohrah IN love with me?
As a twenty nine year old woman, Fātimah Al Zohrah had dated a number of men, some of whom she really loved.
Yet as she thought back, Fātimah Al Zohrah found that she consistently measured them up to one person, her Stepdad, Durgesh.
Fātimah Al Zohrah dated them but always rejected them without even any single exception\.
They were not as handsome, not as intelligent, not as strong, etc.
She always told herself Fātimah Al Zohrah should hold out for someone better, after all, it worked for her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā.
The realization slowly began to build until it finally sunk in.
Fātimah Al Zohrah really was in love with me!
Fātimah Al Zohrah really was in love with me!
With Durgesh, her own Hindu stepfather.
Allah! Yā Allah!
Fātimah Al Zohrah wondered if she’d be able to face her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, again, pondering if somehow she’d seen right through her and knew her illicit secret.
Well, was it illicit really?
Yet, could Fātimah Al Zohrah face her Stepdaddy, me, again, afraid she’d let something slip and I’d learn her feelings were far deeper than a even a Musalmān stepdaughter should have for her Hindu stepdfather?
Fātimah Al Zohrah always criticized Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan for seducing me.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wasn’t right.
She never could be.
All the sympathy of Fātimah Al Zohrah was with Nafīsah Salmān.
Yes, Nafīsah Salmān Ammī had deserted Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
Nafīsah Salmān Ammī had even cuckolded Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s real Abbū.
But didn’t Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself do the same thing?*
If Nafīsah Salmān Ammī had humiliated Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, what the hell else Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself did?
Didn’t Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan go more countless steps ahead in humiliating and disgracing her Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, herself?
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was an incurable nudist feminist.
Moreover, she was an exhibitionist too.
She deliberately compelled Durgesh to have sex with her in public places openly.
And she was proud of it too.
All her 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, aren’t most of them exhibitions, more or less?
Fortunately, she didn’t have much time to stew.
We would be back in the morning to pick up where we left off earlier.
Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and I arrived early.
We all set about working without much fanfare.
Fātimah Al Zohrah and I continued scraping the outside while her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, busied herself indoors.
Fortunately, it was much cooler than the day before which made the task marginally more pleasant.
We broke for lunch and all, except me, enjoyed a cold beer on the porch as we ate.
Fātimah Al Zohrah had been quiet most of the morning feeling a tad ill at ease, but Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, and I appeared normal as ever.
Fātimah Al Zohrah tried her best to dismiss the feeling that they were somehow onto her.
However, Fātimah Al Zohrah still found it difficult to look at me for too long without getting a strange feeling deep in her belly.
She was deadly in love with Durgesh.
Allah! Yā Allah!
And how foolishly Fātimah Al Zohrah blamed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was right.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was always right.
No Musalmān Beauty, whosoever the hell she may be, can ever resist Durgesh’s ever undefeatable Hindu masculine charms.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wasn’t to be blamed.
Poor Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan too couldn’t resist as now she herself, Fātimah Al Zohrah, can’t resist.
What a damnfool Fātimah Al Zohrah was.
She didn’t criticize Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan only.
Fātimah Al Zohrah criticized her others extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān girlfriends too that they shamelessly seduced Durgesh.
Durgesh was sixty plus.
And they were only Jet Musalmān Beauties.
Yet they were crazy to have sex with Durgesh so shamelessly.
Despite the fact that their own Ammīs, Kħālās, Phūphīs, Mumānīs etcetera were themselves having sex with Durgesh.
By the end of lunch and much casual conversation, Fātimah Al Zohrah was far more relaxed.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was sure Ammī simply used the word ‘flirt’ as a substitute for joke, and wasn’t trying to imply anything else.
Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, could be very direct, but she hadn’t said anything else, so Fātimah Al Zohrah was certain she’d just overreacted.
In the afternoon we finished the scraping and sanding, so Fātimah Al Zohrah showed me how to caulk around the windows and trim.
I laid a bead down and turned to her to see that I’d followed what I was doing.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was feeling somewhat naughty being so close to me, and said quietly,
“Nice caulk, Durgesh darling.” Fātimah Al Zohrah shocked herself with her boldness, blushed slightly before she glanced around to make sure her Ammī was not hovering nearby.
She never called me anything but ‘Durgesh darling’.
But she never realized why it was so.
Allah! Yā Allah!
The deepest feeling behind all these actions was her intense deadly feminine love for Durgesh.
Fātimah Al Zohrah couldn’t survive without Durgesh’s masculine love for her.
As Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t.
As her extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriends couldn’t.
Durgesh is doubtlessly the dream lover of entire Musalmān Beauties.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was deadly sure of the cold and hard fact now.
I just shook my head slightly and in a drawn out way, responded,
“Princess,” clearly admonishing Fātimah Al Zohrah with my tone.
Hee lips slowly turned into a grin however, which made me feel like Fātimah Al Zohrah had gotten away with something.
Fātimah Al Zohrah went inside and grabbed another couple of beers for her and juice for me.
When Fātimah Al Zohrah returned Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was busily caulking another window.
Fātimah Al Zohrah handed me a juice and stood back.
Fātimah Al Zohrah watched while I worked with ever naughty ever sexiest Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
I just seemed immensely capable to her, like there was nothing I couldn’t do.
Fātimah Al Zohrah marveled at how an executive who spent most of his time in a suit was so willing to do manual labor for his far poorer Musalmān stepdaughter, while he always tried to gift her millions.
Fātimah Al Zohrah had always politely asked Durgesh to let her be self made too, as he himself was.
Fātimah Al Zohrah don’t think I’d even painted my own home in ages, hiring contractors to do it for me, yet there I was.
How nice of Durgesh.
He is doing it only because Fātimah Al Zohrah insisted to do it herself.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was also doing it for the same purpose.
What a nice couple Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Durgesh.
To hell with the age difference.
To hell with their mutual personal relationship.
Wasn’t it their own personal matter.
What right anyone else has to interfere between them?
Aren’t they both adult?
Let them lead and enjoy their own personal life in whatsoever manner they damn please.
Shouldn’t everyone behave in this way?
her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and I left early that evening, promising to be back the next weekend to start the painting.
As Fātimah Al Zohrah showered, she couldn’t help thinking of me and of her daring ‘caulk’ comment.
Before Fātimah Al Zohrah even knew what was happening, Fātimah Al Zohrah had the shower massager head between her legs pointed directly at her clit while Fātimah Al Zohrah fingered her over-heated Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
As her orgasm approached, Fātimah Al Zohrah couldn’t help but moan,
“Oh, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! .”
Fātimah Al Zohrah came hard and her knees buckled, but Fātimah Al Zohrah leaned against the tile walls and somehow remained upright.
Over the next week, Fātimah Al Zohrah couldn’t get me out of her mind.
At work, Fātimah Al Zohrah daydreamed about me, and in the evenings at home Fātimah Al Zohrah found herself deeply lost in her fantasy world of being with me in an intimate way.
Fātimah Al Zohrah wasn’t ashamed to realize she rubbed herself off more than a few times to the illicit thoughts.
What the hell there is illicit in it?
I wasn’t her real father.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, you are right.
You were always right.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was a damnfool.
Please forgive me.*
On her way home from work one night Fātimah Al Zohrah picked up a few gallons each of primer and paint for her Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and me to use.
Fātimah Al Zohrah also tried to come up with a ton of indoor projects to keep her Ammī occupied elsewhere.
Knowing how manipulative Fātimah Al Zohrah was being made her feel terrible.
Fātimah Al Zohrah tried not to think about it too much.
The guilt was hard to ignore though.
Fātimah Al Zohrah shouldn’t cheat on her Ammī.
But why the hell Ammī herself doesn’t understand?
What’s wrong in it?
Why the hell Fātimah Al Zohrah can’t love Durgesh?
Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā allows her countless extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girlfriends to fuck Durgesh.
Her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā allows their daughters even.
But Fātimah Al Zohrah would not be allowed.
Why the hell?
Fātimah Al Zohrah was surprised when I showed up alone on Saturday morning.
I explained that her Ammī had decided to visit her own mother, who had been ill, so it would just be the two of us.
Fātimah Al Zohrah felt a tingle run over her skin, knowing she’d have me all to herself for the day.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan already had told her she couldn’t come today.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had some political responsibilities to attend to.*
The morning started off quiet as Fātimah Al Zohrah avoided flirting with me overtly, but I was my usual jovial self and slowly pulled hee out of her shell.
It was even hotter than the previous weekend, and at about eleven o’clock I pulled my shirt off and set about working topless.
Fātimah Al Zohrah complained that it was unfair.
I simply smiled at Fātimah Al Zohrah and stated,
“I don’t mind even if you too do the same, Fātimah Al Zohrah. Okay? Fair now?”
“Yah, right, Durgesh darling,” Fātimah Al Zohrah responded, and then added, “Bet you’d love that.”
I laughed and answered,
“You bet. I haven’t seen twenty-something boobies, since, well…”
Fātimah Al Zohrah was twenty-something.
“Boobies, Durgesh darling?” Fātimah Al Zohrah said, shaking her head impishly, “You’re never really showing your age.”
“Yet, still I know, I’m an old man of sixty three,” I replied.
Fātimah Al Zohrah couldn’t help but steal views of my body.
For a guy who just turned sixty three, I was in amazing shape.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and the entire Jet Musalmān Beauties of her Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad were persistently ever insistent that I was thirty three only.
I still possessed six pack abs.
Moreover, I was solid all over.
Even at my medium height, I stood well above her five foot eight inch frame.
Even with her long, sleek legs, Fātimah Al Zohrah was well shorter than her super sexy Durgesh darling.
I still had a thick head of black hair, which was sometimes only peppered with a hint of grey and highlighted my dark eyes well.
We worked for another hour or so when Fātimah Al Zohrah suggested we take a break for lunch.
I grabbed the hose and held it as her Fātimah Al Zohrah washed the paint off my hands.
When I was done, I handed me the hose so Fātimah Al Zohrah could do the same.
After Fātimah Al Zohrah washed her hands, Fātimah Al Zohrah was surprised when I turned the water upon Fātimah Al Zohrah and blasted her from head to toe.
The water was cold and Fātimah Al Zohrah shrieked as I drenched her.
I had come there after fucking Shamsah Salāħuddīn, Najmah Salāħuddīn, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Nafīsah Salmān too.
Yet I was still feeling sexy.
Fātimah Al Zohrah couldn’t help it.
I was built that way.
I was deliberately brought up since my very childhood to be so.
It was my inherent nature now to be impish with fair sex, whosoever she was.
Fātimah Al Zohrah simply laughed at her predicament.
Within Moments I dropped the hose and I noticed her eyes were nearly bugging out of her head.
Suddenly alert I realized Fātimah Al Zohrah was watching between my legs deliberately checking whether I had any erection for her too.
I scolded her with my eyes, yet silently still.
Fātimah Al Zohrah looked down and saw the water had made both her worn white tee shirt and sheer white bra essentially transparent.
The cold water had also turned her nipples hard as rocks, and there was no mistaking them through the two soaking layers of clothing.
A thrill instantly went through her entire extremely beautiful twenty nine years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body knowing that I was seeing her breasts like never before.
In spite of her excitement, Fātimah Al Zohrah took a long deep breath, and calmly said, “Jeez, Durgesh darling, I guess you really did want to see my boobies.”
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh God, honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it ever, Fātimah Al Zohrah, I swear,” I said gravely in response.
“It’s okay,” Fātimah Al Zohrah smiled, and then added, “I better get changed before lunch.”
“Sweetie, I’m really sorry. Really,” I said emphatically, and Fātimah Al Zohrah could tell I actually meant it.
Fātimah Al Zohrah regretted instantaneously.
What the hell?
Why she is acting so childish still now?
Why not encourage him instead making him sorry.
Fātimah Al Zohrah is still a damnfool.
She can’t be Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan ever.
Criticize Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan more.
And lose consequently what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has already achieved.
Why the hell Fātimah Al Zohrah always act to destine herself a loser?
Is that what Fātimah Al Zohrah wants to be?
Be Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Get what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has gotten.
Seduce him, O stupid.
Seduce Durgesh the greatest.
“It’s okay. You were just playing and accidents happen. Let’s just eat and forget about it,” Fātimah Al Zohrah told me, trying to remain as steady on the outside as possible, while her insides were doing cartwheels.
The truth was, Fātimah Al Zohrah was proud of her breasts.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was a late bloomer, and was jealous of the other girls at school when they budded before her.
Her twins finally began showing a couple of years later, and they swelled into what Fātimah Al Zohrah thought was a perfect set, size 36 C.
Fātimah Al Zohrah walked into her room and looked in the mirror.
There was no escaping the fact that her breasts were completely on display.
Durgesh clearly had a good view, which sent a shiver down her spine.
“Hope you liked ’em, Durgesh darling,” Fātimah Al Zohrah thought to herself as Fātimah Al Zohrah peeled off the wet clothes.
Fātimah Al ZohrahI reached up and cupped her breasts then rolled her hard nipples between her fingers.
Fātimah Al Zohrah felt really naughty knowing I was down the hall and her door was wide open, but that just made Fātimah Al Zohrah even hotter.
Fātimah Al Zohrah shook her head clear and knew she didn’t have time to pleasure herself the way Fātimah Al Zohrah wanted to.
At first Fātimah Al Zohrah put on a dry bra and an old red tee shirt, but then reconsidered after looking at her somewhat plain appearance in the mirror.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was feeling super sexy and wanted to further seduce her ‘Durgesh darling’.
Durgesh is her lover.
What Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has done, why the hell Fātimah Al Zohrah could too?
Fātimah Al Zohrah took off both and went to her dresser looking for something better to wear.
Fātimah Al Zohrah chose to go braless ultimately, and put on a simple white top with a scoop neck.
If everything goes alright, Fātimah Al Zohrah would fuck the Hindu beast today.
Why the delay?
Isn’t Fātimah Al Zohrah twenty nine already?
Fātimah Al Zohrah knew that if she bent over, I would get an unencumbered view of her glorious Musalmān breasts.
The thought of it thrilled Fātimah Al Zohrah.
She tweaked her nipples for a Moment to ensure they were really hard before Fātimah Al Zohrah left to seduce me in the kitchen where Fātimah Al Zohrah found me sitting at the table looking somewhat vigilant and cautious.
Durgesh can never understand his ever sexy Musalmān stepdaughters.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has already made a record as his world famous live in relationship partner.
Countless of his Musalmān stepdaughters have already fucked him.
Yet Durgesh still hasn’t learned his Musalmān stepdaughters would never accept him their stepfather.
Durgesh is their dream Hindu lover too whether he appreciates it or not.
Sooner or later, Durgesh has to fuck his every Musalmān stepdaughter.
Better fuck them willingly.
Better fuck them without any delay any more.
Why tease them for your damned impractical morals?
You blame Pseudo Musalmīn for their damned impractical morals.
You agree with their Musalmān Houseladies.
Why don’t you agree with your Musalmān stepdaughters too?
What of your own impractical morals?
Double standard you have?
As Fātimah Al Zohrah started making our sandwiches, I said gravely,
“Fātimah Al Zohrah, I’m really sorry, sweetie. I honestly didn’t mean it. Sorry once more.”
“Relax, I know you didn’t,” Fātimah Al Zohrah smiled working with her back towards me.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was suddenly emboldened that her confident Hindu stepdfather was suddenly off my game.
Before Fātimah Al Zohrah could say another word, Fātimah Al Zohrah quickly turned and pulled her blouse deliberately above her breasts and said,
“They’re just boobs, Durgesh darling. Every woman has them, so just relax, okay?”*
I turned my head away instantly, furiously,
“What the hell, Fātimah Al Zohrah? Cover them. Don’t you want me to come here any more?”
“Why?” Fātimah Al Zohrah suddenly flared. “Are my breasts that ugly that you can’t even look at them?”
It was not her instantaneous response to my fury.
It was her well thought out strategy instead.
Be aggressive if Durgesh is aggressive.
If he is normal, dominate the Hindu beast.
I didn’t say a word in protest to her action.
“Look at Fātimah Al Zohrah, Durgesh darling, are they that gross?”
Gravely I turned to face her.
“They’re lovely.” I said softly.
I had to change my strategy too subjective to her own strategy.
With that, Fātimah Al Zohrah pulled her shirt down and smiled,
“Do you see? That wasn’t so hard to look at my bare lovely Musalmān breasts, was it? I know you love them, the bare lovely breasts of us Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Beauties’, I mean”
I knew I was not appreciating it.
But blood pounded through her veins at her own boldness, driving Fātimah Al Zohrah wild.
Not only had I received a wonderful view of her breasts when I soaked her chest, but an even better one when Fātimah Al Zohrah flashed them to me.
Fātimah Al Zohrah flashed her own stepdfather!
And I said they were lovely too.
Allah! Yā Allah! God, Fātimah Al Zohrah was so hot!
She never knew even she could do that.
Fātimah Al Zohrah finished making our sandwiches on weak legs, and then we ate in relative silence.
Fātimah Al Zohrah found herself thrusting her chest out, wondering if my eyes would wander to her firm breasts and hard nipples.
Her blouse displayed quite a bit of cleavage, and Fātimah Al Zohrah honestly wanted me to look and appreciate.
But as she expected my face was not flush.
It was grave instead.
And Fātimah Al Zohrah wondered if it was because I was embarrassed or excited.
She let me play my station on radio.
She had already bared her extremely beautiful boobs to me today.
She had already annoyed me.
She deliberately didn’t want me to disturb any more now.
Fātimah Al Zohrah turned a dance station on.
It was a good excuse for her to shake subtly her extremely beautiful young Musalmān body as we worked alongside one another.
Fātimah Al Zohrah found numerous opportunities to bend over in My direction, showing off her unencum extremely lovely bared Musalmān breasts and long legs.
Around six o’clock we decided to call it a day.
I held the hose as Fātimah Al Zohrah washed her hands, then I did the same for her.
Inside Fātimah Al Zohrah was praying I’d spray her again, but she could see I was abnormal and that was just not going to happen again.
She cursed herself.
Why the hell she didn’t appreciate my action?
She kind of wished she had washed first so Fātimah Al Zohrah could have sprayed her, but it was an opportunity lost.
She cursed herself again.*
Suddenly, a naughty idea hit her head.
I had brought a change of clothes.
I told her I should take a shower before heading home rather than get any paint on my car’s upholstery.
Fātimah Al Zohrah snuck into the bathroom before I went in and stole most of the towels and even the bath mat.
Her home was older and the plumbing was rather loud.
When I began my shower Fātimah Al Zohrah quietly crept in and removed all the remaining towels and everything else with which Fātimah Al Zohrah could cover myself, including my discarded clothes.
Fātimah Al Zohrah sat across the hall in her guest bedroom waiting for me to finish bathing.
The old plumbing banged as I shut off the water.
Fātimah Al Zohrah knew I was done.
Only a Moment later, she heard me call her name,
“Fātimah Al Zohrah, I need a towel in here.”
Fātimah Al Zohrah walked to the door on bold legs, and announced,
“I have one out here for you, Durgesh darling. Open the door.”
The door opened just a couple of inches, and Fātimah Al Zohrah saw a hand snake out.
My fingers began to snap, as though I was trying to grab something that wasn’t there.
She took a deep breath to steel her resolve, then said,
“Open the door if you want the towel.”
There was silence for a Moment, and then she heard from behind the door,
“Just hand it to me, will you?”
Once again, Fātimah Al Zohrah paused before stating,
“Durgesh darling, you got to see my boobs twice today. I think it’s only fair that I get to see your Uncut Hindu Lund once.”
“What the hell! Are you crazy?” I shouted.
Fātimah Al Zohrah remained as calm as possible, and then responded,
“No, I’m not. Do you want a towel or not?”*
Fātimah Al Zohrah felt the blood pounding through her veins, and wondered just what would happen next.
It seemed like ages, but only fifteen seconds or so later Fātimah Al Zohrah saw the door begin to swing open.
Sweat rolled down her back as Fātimah Al Zohrah came into view.
I was completely naked, but held both hands in front of my groin; a grave look was upon my handsome face.
Ninety nine percent of her was uncertain, but the one percent won out and Fātimah Al Zohrah said,
“Let me see, Durgesh darling, fair is fair.”*
We stared into each other’s eyes for a Moment, before I slowly moved my hands away from my crotch.
Fātimah Al Zohrah cast her glance down and was shocked by what Fātimah Al Zohrah saw.
My Uncut Hindu Lund, even while flaccid, was at least five thick inches long.
She instantly wondered just how big Fātimah Al Zohrah could get.
Her eyes soaked me in for a few seconds, before she tossed me the towel she had draped over her shoulder.
“Dry yourself off, big Durgesh darling,” Fātimah Al Zohrah said, shocking herself with the ‘big’ comment.
She turned and walked to the kitchen, but had to sit down as her head was spinning.
Allah! Yā Allah!
So, it was the unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund every mb she knew was crazy for?
Well, now Fātimah Al Zohrah herself was.
She couldn’t resist the temptation.
How lucky her extremely beautiful ovn ardent Musalmān girlfriends were!
They were already enjoying the unique miracle.
Damn you Fātimah Al Zohrah.
You are the bloody loser.
Do you realize now?
He isn’t only the best in humanity.
He is really best in sex too.*
Before I left that evening, we shared an uncomfortable silence.
She tried to touch my Uncut Hindu Penis but I tactfully dodged her every time.
“I want to feel what I saw.”
“That’s not for you. That’s for your Ammī.”
“You can’t keep away from me.”
No sooner was I out the door; Fātimah Al Zohrah was on her bed, frantically rubbing herself off.
She could not get the image of my thick Uncut Hindu Lund out of her head.
But Fātimah Al Zohrah was also thrilled by her audacity at making me open the door before her prying eyes.
Fātimah Al Zohrah came over and over again, imagining my hard Uncut Hindu Lund buried deep inside her now aggressive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt .
Fātimah Al Zohrah was considered quite attractive with a wonderful female Musalmān body.
Yet suddenly Fātimah Al Zohrah felt like she was losing control, in spite of her earlier bravado.
For whatever reason, Fātimah Al Zohrah could not get my image out of her head and wanted to please me more than anything Fātimah Al Zohrah had ever done in her life.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was surprised when her phone rang the next morning from her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā’s cell phone.
She said Grammy was feeling better.
Consequently she wanted to help out with the house like before.
Fātimah Al Zohrah had dressed in a subtly sexy outfit for her benefit.
She quickly retreated to her room to change before her Ammī saw what Fātimah Al Zohrah was wearing.
After her car pulled in, they both exited.
Ammī came to her and gave her a big hug.
Kħadījah Al Kubrā held Fātimah Al Zohrah and whimpered in her ear,
“Grammy sends her love.”
Fātimah Al Zohrah felt bad that she had barely thought of Gram given everything else that has going on, but held her Ammī, Kħadījah Al Kubrā, tight as Fātimah Al Zohrah knew how much it meant to her.
I stayed back deliberately.
Fātimah Al Zohrah had already tried to grab my Uncut Hindu Penis so many times that I didn’t want to provide the younger Musalmān Beauty another opportunity.
It was not easy to control myself.
Every time Fātimah Al Zohrah tried to grab my Uncut Hindu Penis, it not only hardened immediately, it started to lengthen and thicken as well.
I didn’t want her to experience this incredible miraculous quality of my uhc.
It could make her crazier.
Fātimah Al Zohrah wondered if I was so afraid of her that I felt the need to bring a chaperone.
Fātimah Al Zohrah was suddenly horrified.
Did Fātimah Al Zohrah go too far the day before?
Showing me her breasts was over the top, but demanding to see my Uncut Hindu Lund was in another stratosphere altogether.
Fātimah Al Zohrah prayed I didn’t tell her Ammī about what had happened.
We painted in silence for most of the morning while her Ammī worked indoors.
Slowly Fātimah Al Zohrah moved her way closer to me.
Never before in her life had Fātimah Al Zohrah been more aggressive.
Fātimah Al Zohrah wasn’t sure what to say, but finally a few self-conscience words softly escaped her mouth,
“Sorry if you felt the need for a chaperone today.”
Fātimah Al Zohrah was waiting with baited breath for my response.
She didn’t leave me hanging long.
She leaned in and said quietly,
“After what happened between us yesterday, I think you need a chaperone from me, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! ”
I stared into her eyes,
“Sālī, méré Uncut Hindu Lund kī bhūkhī.”
Fātimah Al Zohrah laughed,
“That’s better, mérī jān.”
She grabbed my Uncut Hindu Lund this time successfully and squeezed it significantly.
“Very proud of it? Aren’t you?”
“Shut up and leave it.”
“Fātimah Al Zohrah, I say…”
“Why the hell you still say? Show some action, you teaser.”
“I promise to give you more pleasure than my Ammī is giving you.”
“I mean it.”
“Find someone else more competent for you.”
“I’ve already. You are the most competent man for me too as well as for my Ammī.”
“Kħadījah Al Kubrā would kill you.”
“Why are you shameless?”
“Because I’m in love with you, you idiot. And everything is fair in love and war.”
Fātimah Al Zohrah was still holding my Uncut Hindu Lund and now playing with it too.
“What’s it? Love or war?”
“Both. Love with you and war with you to get it.”
“Bābarah Åālamgīr is your friend I think.” I smiled.
“You are right.”
“I’ve heard her telling you that she is also trying to change our relationship.”
“Entire womankind doesn’t have another relationship with you except what I’m holding in my hand.”
“Shame on you.”
“Despite your verbal rejection of me, your Uncut Hindu Lund has accepted me fully. It’s growing in my hand, don’t you feel?”
“That’s normal. You are extremely beautiful. I can’t help it. My physical normal reactions are naturally beyond my control.”
“Let me suck you.”
“Hell, leave me you ever untired seductress.”
Fātimah Al Zohrah laughed, winked at me lewdly and let go of me.
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
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