Creative Adult Sex: Durgesh

Chapter 20

Durgesh Al Zakāt Al Qāsim
Shankar Mahāpralayankar Imrān Hāshmī

Imrān Hāshmī bit down hard on his lip to stop himself from crying out.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was fucking him in his ass.
It was a great mistake that, Imrān Hāshmī thought the entire underworld was Muslim dominated.
Yes, most of the underworld consisted of Pseudo Musalmīn, but not the entire.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was there too.
Imrān Hāshmī loved Rājesh Rājpūt that Rājesh Rājpūt must fuck Imrān Hāshmī in his ass, but when Shankar Mahāpralayankar announced to punish Imrān Hāshmī by himself fucking Imrān Hāshmī, even Rājesh Rājpūt couldn’t save Imrān Hāshmī.
He was Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s mare now.
Mare, not horse.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was constantly pumping nonstop.
Allah målūm how Shankar Mahāpralayankar had succeeded in establishing that Imrān Hāshmī was dead now.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm had murdered him.
The dead body, Shankar Mahāpralayankar successfully established that it was that of Imrān Hāshmī was arranged by his persons from some hospital.

Pain, pleasure, Imrān Hāshmī was experiencing both.
Exquisite pain.
Almost unbearable pleasure.
Not yet…
Imrān Hāshmī could silence himself no longer.
He screamed.
His gay Musalmān body shuddered uncontrollably as Imrān Hāshmī climaxed.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar still didn’t withdraw his still erect Uncut Hindu Penis from Imrān Hāshmī’s feminine ass.
Imrān Hāshmī rested his feminine buttocks in Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s Hindu groin.
He knew Shankar Mahāpralayankar would fuck him again.
In the meantime, Shankar Mahāpralayankar stood up proudly and stared down at Imrān Hāshmī.
“So you say you haven’t murdered Muħammad bin Qāsim?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s Uncut Hindu Penis was still throbbing into Imrān Hāshmī’s round firm perfect feminine ass.
Imrān Hāshmī was panting.
“Señor, I’m a gay. More than ninety-nine percent I am feminine. How can I murder an underworld personality as successful as Muħammad bin Qāsim was?”
“Ummil Åālmīn, Al Zakāt Al Qāsim, wanted you to replace Muħammad bin Qāsim, didn’t she?”
Al Zakāt Al Qāsim smiled at Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
“Shankar, Muħammad bin Qāsim was my younger brother. Abbū tried his best to stop his underworld activities. That’s why I wanted Imrān Hāshmī to replace my younger brother Muħammad bin Qāsim.”
She was all-nude with me.
I was fucking Al Zakāt Al Qāsim from her gorgeous behind.
Imrān Hāshmī was licking my Uncut Hindu Penis when it came out of his sister, Al Zakāt Al Qāsim’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt .
It was Ved Nagar and Chaturang Shāshvat Maithunyog was normal here.

Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled at me,
“Durgesh, I don’t think Imrān Hāshmī can kill even a rat or fly.”
“Thank you.” Imrān Hāshmī gratefully pushed his feminine buttocks into Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s lap, surrendering his gorgeous feminine ass to Shankar Mahāpralayankar thus, in immense indebtedness.*

Muħammad Ibrāhīm knew Durgesh would never let down him.
How wrong he was.
He hated Durgesh because Durgesh was fucking Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s beautiful sisters, Jamīlah Nādir, Åzīzah Nādir, Fauziyah Nādir, Ghazālah Nādir, Zulékħah Nādir, Bilqīs Nādir and Tayyabah Nādir.
He was the only brother among seven sisters.
His Ammī, Kulsūm Åbbās, loved his only son very much.
Even his Abbū, Al Waħīd Al Muħammad, was very proud of Muħammad Ibrāhīm.
Al Waħīd Al Muħammad was in the Board of Directors in Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company.
“Abbū,” Muħammad Ibrāhīm had protested, “we are millionaire. You have done very much for your children. All my seven sisters are highly educated and running their own businesses. Yet, their affair with the Hindu multi zillionaire Durgesh…”
“Durgesh is your friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm.” his wife, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān, interrupted Muħammad Ibrāhīm curtly.
Al Waħīd Al Muħammad smiled.
“She is right, Muħammad Ibrāhīm. Durgesh has a great contribution in not only our success, but our Bahū Bégum’s family’s success as well.”
“I know. But I can’t pay Durgesh with my sisters.” Muħammad Ibrāhīm said curtly.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled cunningly.
“Well, I am ready to pay Durgesh with my sisters for the prosperity and protection my family is receiving from him.”
Muħammad Ibrāhīm watched his wife, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān, scrutinizing her.
“That’s all?”
“What do you mean?”
“You are ready to pay Durgesh with your sisters only for the prosperity and protection your family is receiving from him? Not with yourself too?”
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled prudently.
“I see. So you still doubt that Durgesh fucks me too?”
“I know Durgesh fucks his Musalmān friends’ extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies. Most of my friends have adjusted with the inevitable because their extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies themselves are adamant to fuck Durgesh. They shamelessly say:
‘Once with Durgesh,
all the rest is trash.’
Allah, my own sisters say so.”
Muħammad Ibrāhīm gritted his teeth.
Al Waħīd Al Muħammad smiled.
“Muħammad Ibrāhīm, your sisters are modern young ladies. All of them are highly educated and Durgesh helped them in establishing their own businesses.”
“So?”
“Their own husbands don’t mind it. Why the hell do you?”
“That’s what I am trying to tell your foolish son, Abbū.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān said curtly.
“Muħammad Ibrāhīm,” Al Waħīd Al Muħammad admonished his somewhat communal somewhat backward son, “It’s twenty first century. Your sisters have their own fundamental human rights and women rights too. Their sex life is their personal life. When their husbands…”
“Their husbands are selling my sisters.” Muħammad Ibrāhīm thundered at his Abbū, Al Waħīd Al Muħammad, “They themselves have extramarital affairs. Why the hell they mind if my sisters are foolish enough to sell themselves to Durgesh to get financial support for their husbands and themselves too?”
“I see.” Al Waħīd Al Muħammad said curtly.
“I too.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān said.
“Durgesh has fucked your brains too.” Muħammad Ibrāhīm said furiously.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān cooed.
“Thanks for the compliment, my dear husband.”
“It’s not a compliment.”
“That’s what you think.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled at her foolish Musalmān husband, “I take it as a compliment that the great Durgesh, the multi zillionaire, the lifelong chairman of HVSI Group of Business Enterprises, is interested in me sexually. It means something else too.”
“What?”
“That you are sexually incompetent.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān humiliated Muħammad Ibrāhīm deliberately.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm was too furious to respond his wife.
He always suspected Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān never had any platonic relationship with me.
No Musalmān Beauty with brains could have any platonic relationship with me ever.
When I was such a damnfool that I always establish my Musalmān women financially establishing their own separate business establishment, why the hell any Musalmān Beauty with brains wouldn’t get benefited from it?
Okay, let the Hindu damnfool fuck her.
Even their husbands and their inlaws supported them.
Money had its own ethics.
Doesn’t it?*

My one fourth Uncut Hindu Lund was already into Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān’s beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
It was rock hard.
“Bhābhījān,” I tried to say.
“Shut up.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān said, smiling into my eyes, “I never accepted the platonic relationship you always offered to me so obdurately. Durgesh, don’t you think ever that you were insulting me, thus?”
I fell as if from the seventh sky.
“Bhābhījān,”
“All of my sisters, all of my cousins, all of my girlfriends, were enjoying grand sex with you and luxuries your never ending money could buy for them. Yet, I was still only your friend’s girlfriend for you.”
“Bhābhījān, how could I cheat Muħammad Ibrāhīm? He was my friend.”
“Stop acting the damn ethical.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān pushed her Musalmān Cunt again on my Uncut Hindu Prick.
My Uncut Hindu Prick entered her Musalmān Cunt half of it now.
I still couldn’t believe Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān herself fucking me.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm was in jail.
Muħammad Åbdullah had told me that Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān doesn’t want him out on bail.
I couldn’t believe Muħammad Åbdullah.
But now, I wasn’t so sure.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān perhaps never loved her husband, Muħammad Ibrāhīm.
I was mistaken.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm was also mistaken.
But why the hell then Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān married Muħammad Ibrāhīm?
Was she playing some deep game?
I should find out.
Was she behind it herself?
Did she herself mastermind her husband’s arrest?
Did she marry Muħammad Ibrāhīm to destroy him completely?
Eīshān!
Eīshān!
I should find out.
I should find out.
I should protect my friend from this mastermind bitch.
Eīshān!
Eīshān!
What a woman?
I never suspected her even while she was so openly unashamed of her activities.
Shakīlah Sultān always grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis.
She always winked at me lewdly.
Once she even unzipped me and entered her right hand to grab my Uncut Hindu Penis.*

I was startled.
“Bhābhījān,”
“Oh, shut up, fuck me, you Hindu idiot.”
“Stop it, Bhābhījān; after all, there must be some limit.”
“Your friend is a religious damn fool. I married him only because he is a Musalmān and you are not. Now, didn’t you promise me that you’d personally take care of me if Muħammad Ibrāhīm ever failed?”
I was dumbfounded.
“I didn’t mean it to the extent you thought, Bhābhījān.”
“Why not? Your friend is an idiot. He fucks me in darkness only.”
“It’s a customary excuse most of you Musalmān wives use to justify your infidelity,” I laughed, “to justify your extramarital affair with us Hindus. Stop it, Bhābhījān. I know it isn’t true.”
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān had grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis and had already brought it out of my shorts.
Now she was squeezing it playfully.
It was rock hard.
“It is true. And you have to fill the gap now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Muħammad Ibrāhīm is a poor fucker. You are the best, they say. Now provide me what your friend is not providing.”
“Bhābhījān,”
“You promised me you’d provide me everything Muħammad Ibrāhīm wouldn’t. Didn’t you?”
“Of course, but I never meant sex too.”
“Well, you never said that.”
“Well, wasn’t it obvious?”
“No. I still had your Uncut Hindu Penis in my hand when you promised me it.”
“Bhābhījān, try to understand me. You were crazy for me then. How the hell otherwise could I convince you to marry Muħammad Ibrāhīm?”
“You promised me specifically that if I married Muħammad Ibrāhīm I would have extramarital affair with you too. Didn’t you?”
“Because you wanted to fuck me then and there.”
“And I did it, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” I was furious now, “you fucked me. You made me unable to meet my eyes with Muħammad Ibrāhīm. He didn’t get your virginity, your cherry. You gave it to me.”
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled cunningly.
“It was nothing my dear. It was only a trailer. Don’t forget we entered a treaty, a written treaty that you’d provide me everything, including sex too, if Muħammad Ibrāhīm failed to provide me anything to my satisfaction.”
I watched her incredulously.*

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled at Shakīlah Sultān.
“So you want to fuck Durgesh before you marry Muħammad Ibrāhīm?”
Shakīlah Sultān winked at her.
“I want Muħammad Ibrāhīm cuckolded, but not at once. He must suffer gradually increasingly.”
“I thought you loved him.”
“I can’t love a Pseudo Musalmān.” Shakīlah Sultān said scornfully, “I hate the bastards immensely and love them all cuckolded to their Musalmān wives, their Musalmān Houseladies and their Hindu lovers.”
“May I ask why?”
“They are blots to Islam and I am an ardent Musalmān.”
“So you want to punish them?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled prudently.
“Don’t you?”
“Cuckold Your Musalmān husband is my movement, dearie.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed, “The Pseudo Musalmīn hate me immensely because I patronize Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. It’s my Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s first international major success. Even the Western countries finance it because it keeps Hindu Muslim Unity shattered. After 1857, the Westerners are so afraid of Hindu Muslim Unity that they never want them united.”
“But Hindu Lund Muslim Choot union is itself Hindu Muslim Unity. Don’t the bastard Westerners understand it?”
“They believe that the name Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club would excite Musalmīn. They would feel humiliated and therefore never reconcile with Hindus.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was smiling cunningly.
“Well, what’s wrong in it if the Westerners think so? Aren’t Musalmīn so communal now that they can’t bear this name for an international series of clubs?”
“They are. They are. But it would arrange and increase Hindu Lund Muslim Choot union however.”
“But most of the Pseudo Musalmīn are Uneducated/Under Educated. They form the most of the underworld even calling it shamelessly Muslim Underworld too. Won’t they kill Hindus if they feel humiliated to the extent?”*

Long lashes swept upward, dark eyes regarded me with the unabashed frankness of a speculator looking over a piece of property.
She shifted her extremely beautiful nude Musalmān legs on my nude Hindu male shoulders.
My Uncut Hindu Penis once more vanished into her until virgin Musalmān Cunt to my balls.
She smiled at me cunningly.
“I’m going to like this case.” I smiled too.
“I hope you do, Muħammad Ibrāhīm Bhāījān needs a good lawyer.” Al Furqān Al Waħīd said, “Yet, the best lawyer he could have is now being attacked by his own Musalmān Houseladies nonstop.”
“Why are you so against your own brother?”
“Why is his own wife, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān, is against her own husband?”
“That can’t be your own reason too.”
“That’s right.”
“Why do you want your own brother should get gas chamber?”
“He never helped my husband. He cheated him always.”
“Isn’t that what you yourself are doing now?”
“Cheating Abul Ħakam?” Al Furqān Al Waħīd raised her long lashes once more, “You don’t know me, my Hindu fucker. I can’t cheat Abul Ħakam ever.”
“What is this then? Your beloved husband is suffering from Aids and you persistently requested me to fuck you.”
Al Furqān Al Waħīd’s beautiful eyes were suddenly full of tears.
“He permitted me only when I feigned I was ravenously dying to get sex. Suffering from Aids, Abul Ħakam couldn’t do it himself, so…”
“What do you exactly want from me?”
“I want to test what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī suggested me.”
My mouth was suddenly filled with extreme bitterness.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī?”
“Yes, now I don’t have another alternative.”
“Are you crazy? Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī both hate Pseudo Musalmīn deadly. They want them humiliated extremely. Don’t you know it?”
“I know,” Al Furqān Al Waħīd said patiently, “but I too think the criminals/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn deserve what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī are doing with them.”
“How innocent are you!” I said sarcastically, “Don’t you realize they are actually cuckolding your Musalmān husband?”
“Under their Cuckold Your Musalmān husband movement?”
“What do you think?”
“Durgesh, well, they have a theory that my husband can survive if he himself allows me to have sex with you and cleans my private parts with his tongue after that.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī?”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī.” Al Furqān Al Waħīd said.
“Are you really PhD?”
“I know what you are thinking of me. But what the another alternative do I have? I can do anything for his survival.”
“You are crazy.”
“No, I’m desperate.” Al Furqān Al Waħīd contradicted me, “A desperate can do anything whatsoever if there is even an infinitesimal possibility.”
“I can’t appreciate Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, neither I can even forgive them for it. They are humiliating a person that’s already dying.”
“But he is recovering, méré Hindu Piyā.”
“What?” I was crestfallen.
I couldn’t believe her.
“That’s right. I know you won’t believe it. Even I couldn’t. But believe it or not.Since Abul Ħakam has allowed me to have sex with you and is licking my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt and Musalmān ass, Abul Ħakam is really recovering surprisingly fast. The doctors had decided Abul Ħakam should go through one more operation. But when we reached there, for the operation, the doctors have suddenly found the operation isn’t needed any more, at least now. Tell me if it isn’t the effect of what we are doing, our threesome I mean, why otherwise it’s happening?”
“It may be a coincidence only.”

Al Furqān Al Waħīd watched me attentively.
“Sorry, Durgesh, I don’t believe what you say. I respect you the most, but…”
“You respect me?” I looked at her quite surprised. My unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis was diving into her until virgin Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt to my balls, remaining there enough to get content abundantly, coming out till only its head remained inside, and then again plunging more vigorously, till again it’s inside her tight Musalmān Cunt upto my balls to remain there again till I was entirely content with it abundantly, “You only respect me even now?”
Al Furqān Al Waħīd’s expressive eyes were suddenly intensely cold.
“’I see. You want to hear from me that I love you now. Don’t you?”
“Isn’t it natural?”
“I think so. But I respect you to the extent that I can’t lie to you even if I wanted to. It would never be convincing enough to you. Moreover, I would hate myself very much for it, so much that I can’t live normally with my lies to you. It would shatter down my own self respect in my own eyes.”
“Al Furqān Al Waħīd, we are making love…”
Al Furqān Al Waħīd raised her right hand up, in my sentence.
“No, we aren’t.”
“What?”
“We aren’t making love. I don’t love you. Neither I am capable to love anyone else except Abul Ħakam. Sorry.”
“The hell we aren’t making love.” I said somewhat irritated, “I’m fucking you vigorously…”
“That’s right.”
“What’s right?”
“That you are fucking me.”
“I didn’t get you.”
“We are fucking each other. That’s it. We are fucking each other. That’s all. I respect you the most for it that you are kind enough to fuck me. I need it. I need your unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis into my Musalmān Cunt very much. But that is the all you can get from me in return. I honor you. And I’d honor you the most till Abul Ħakam and I do exist anywhere. Abul Ħakam does also honor you not less than I do.”

Chapter 21
———————————————-

Ved Nagar: Index

Posted: July 30, 2012 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Åāýéshah Siddīqah, Bachhalyās, Behavioural Science, Bābarah Åālamgīr, Durgesh, Feminism, HLMCIC, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Kħadeejah Muħammad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Saiyadā Fātimah PhD, Shaguftah Rashīd, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Ved Nagar | 58 Comments

Midterm 2012

Kħātūn-e-Jannat

Ved Nagar

Durgesh

Index

Chapter 62
———————————————————————

KĦĀTŪN-E-JANNAT: 28

Posted: June 21, 2012 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, HLMCIC, incest, Jalandhar, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Kħadeejah Muħammad, life sciences, Lord Vishñu, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Nauhīd Niyāzī, Shaguftah Rashīd, Shankhchūđ, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Suraiyā Jamāl, Tulsī, Vr’ndā, Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk | 5 Comments

Kħātūn-e-Jannat

Chapter 28

Durgesh Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah

I hadn’t another alternative.

Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk was right.

To hell with every ethics whatsoever.

A human life is more important than everything is, including ethics too.

That’s what even Hinduism believes in.

Why otherwise Lord Vishñu had deceived his sisters in law, his Salhajs, Vr’ndā and Tulsī and made love to them?

Wasn’t it to destroy their Satītv and Pātivratý to Shankhchūđ and Jalandhar?

Wasn’t it to save humanity from the totalitarians Shankhchūđ and Jalandhar?

Who says it was incest?

No, it wasn’t incest.

It was not done to fulfill his own male animal desires at all.

Why did Lord Rām kill Vāli hiding behind a tree?

Why did Lord Kr’shñ made Yudhishŧhir to lie that Ashvatthāmā had been killed?

Hinduism never had impractical ethics detrimental to humanity.

Yet, even then, I was careful enough not to forget there might be movie/ video cameras and/or other devices to frame us, all the three of us.

Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk was undressing Shaguftah Rashīd as fast as she could.

I looked at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.

She was already busy in searching the surroundings with a fine-toothed comb.

How pleasant it is to have an utmost competent police officer with you to assist you when you need very much.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl had already suspected the same, as I did it was more than evident.

Even in her unconsciousness, Shaguftah Rashīd had spread her legs as if inviting me to make love to her.

I approached Shaguftah Rashīd between her legs.

How beautiful she was.

I was already hardened abundantly.

Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā had given me everything I needed ever quite in abundance.

Her nude Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān female body was extremely beautiful.

I kissed her enticing Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.

Both Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk and ACP Suraiyā Jamāl winked at me and raised their right thumb.

They smiled as if wishing me ‘best of luck’, as well as success in saving Shaguftah Rashīd’s life.

I put my extremely hardened Uncut Hindu Prick between the quivering labial lips of Shaguftah Rashīd and started to rub my knob there.

Shaguftah Rashīd smiled in unconsciousness as if enjoying it very much herself.

I didn’t know what her own reaction would be that I made love to her to save her life, after gaining consciousness.*

Even though it was abundant now that Musalmān Beauties were themselves wooing Hindu men to have sex with them, having their own lavish reasons, I couldn’t deny the fact that so many of them changed their tune after enjoying Uncut Hindu Prick to their hearts’ content.

And why shouldn’t they?

The Pseudo Musalmīn were always after them.

Even the terrorists were also after the Musalmān Beauties having sexual relations with me and/or other Hindus.

Both the terrorists and Pseudo Musalmīn thought it was their disgrace as well as the disgrace of Pseudo Islam too.

Unlike true Islam Pseudo Islam could never afford it.

Pseudo Islam was a communal and imperialist movement.

Humanity was its death.

That’s why all the true Musalmīn and the Musalmān Beauties having marital/sexual relations with Hindus, were always with Hindus and other humanists against terrorists and Pseudo Musalmīn.

I entered my Uncut Hindu Prick into Shaguftah Rashīd’s extremely enticing Saůūdī Årab Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān Cunt ultimately.

It vanished entirely to the hilt.

I kissed unconscious Shaguftah Rashīd feeling completely content now.*

Well, why shouldn’t I?

Yes, I was saving her life from her extremely communal inhuman Musalmān husband/ unknown enemy.

But why can’t I enjoy it as well?

To hell with the impractical moralists, unreasonable moralizers, unrealistic preachers, unfeasible critics, unworkable philosophers, unrealistic puritans, impractical saints, and impractical prudes, if they criticize me on it.

Most of them had only thought of it.

They never experienced it.

I started fucking Shaguftah Rashīd passionately and wildly rather.

Being an utmost successful Sex Therapist I knew she needed it.

Even in her unconsciousness, Shaguftah Rashīd was not only enjoying my passionate Hindu sex kicks very much, she was also cooperating with me, rather responding my passionate Hindu sex kicks even more passionately and more wildly.

She was thrusting her Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt toward me lying on her back.

She had already put her legs on my shoulders.

Suddenly ACP Suraiyā Jamāl addressed me.

“Well, Durgesh darling, I think you would like to see it.”

I looked at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl fucking Shaguftah Rashīd more and more passionately.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl looked at Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.

She was also busy in searching the surroundings.

Ostensibly, Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk wasn’t interested in what ACP Suraiyā Jamāl had found out.

It was a passport however.

I looked questioningly at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl used her eyes to warn me that she wanted her finding to hide from Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.

I didn’t look at Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk with tremendous effort and extended my right hand to get the passport ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was advancing to me.

It again took a tremendous effort not to give away when I saw the passport had the photo of Shaguftah Rashīd okay, but her name on the passport was not Shaguftah Rashīd.

It was Nauhīd Niyāzī.*

Before I could pull myself together, Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk also twisted at me and extended a gun to me.

“What?” I stopped pulling my Uncut Hindu Prick out of Shaguftah Rashīd’s/ Nauhīd Niyāzī’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.

It was fully embedded into her.

“I’ve found it in her dressing drawer.” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said gravely.

“What the hell you are talking about?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl whirled at Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.

Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk didn’t answer ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.

She waved the gun at me.

“Durgesh darling,” Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said curtly, “I’m quite certain it’s one of the guns Imām Muħammad Ħasan keeps at Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club for the protection of his Musalmān Beauties and Hindu male members from the terrorists and Pseudo Musalmīn.”

My Uncut Hindu Prick was throbbing into Nauhīd Niyāzī’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt fully embedded still now.

There wasn’t any indication on Nauhīd Niyāzī’s extremely beautiful face that she was conscious at all and understanding how incriminating evidences both ACP Suraiyā Jamāl and Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk had found against her.

She was still unconscious and enjoying my Uncut Hindu Cock into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Vagina.

“How do you know?” I asked Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk taking the gun from her hand.

I had wrapped a handkerchief however before taking the gun from the hand of Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.

Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk looked at me gravely.

“I have seen the guns Imām Muħammad Ħasan keeps there.”

“You are also a member of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club as your employer is?”

“Of course, and I also own quite a stock of shares there too.”

“I see.” I started fucking Nauhīd Niyāzī once again.

However, I wasn’t certain even now that her real name was Nauhīd Niyāzī.

She had acquired a property at Ved Nagar in the name of Shaguftah Rashīd.

It was never possible if her real name was not Shaguftah Rashīd.

Ved Nagar was not only what it appeared to be ostensibly.

It wasn’t easy to pull wool on the eyes of the security authorities of Ved Nagar.

I watched the gun in my hand.

It was a .22 caliber HVSI revolver, more beautiful, yet similarly more dangerous, than a similar Smith and Wesson revolver.

It was stamped with a number in its metal, imh 59786.

The number evidenced that the gun was made on the special order from Imām Muħammad Ħasan, imh was its proof.

Dr. Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk might telling the truth.

Yet, none could guarantee Imām Muħammad Ħasan was the only person working for Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club having the initials imh.

The gun was of a special make exclusively made for Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club.*

Kħadījah Muħammad and I could hear the rapid click clack… click clack… click clack of heels in the corridor.

Kħadījah Muħammad was in her rukū and I was fucking her once more from her behind.

I indicated to Kħadījah Muħammad to open the door.

She did it gravely.

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled at both of us.

“Thank you so much for waiting, Durgesh, I’m sorry I’m late. I just couldn’t make it any sooner.”

I looked at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah over carefully and said,

“Come in Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah. You know Kħadījah Muħammad, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled, “fortunately. The lucky lady, enjoying the great Durgesh.”

Kħadījah Muħammad smiled too.

“Well, Durgesh has just cum into me. You may take over, if you want to.”

“Hey, thank you. Thank you very much. I never thought you’d be so nice.”

I pulled Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah in my arms.

“You are my role model.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled at Kħadījah Muħammad.

“Nonsense, don’t try to imitate Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.” Kħadījah Muħammad laughed, “She is crazy to imitate me.”

“Yes, and that’s why she is successful now in eliminating the age old kingdom of Al Saåūds from Saůūdī Årab. Even on the pathway of establishing Democracy everywhere in entire Pseudo Islamic Countries.”

“You too appreciate Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?”

“Who doesn’t of us Musalmān Beauties whether Wahābī, Sunnī, Shiå, Aħmadī or else?”

“You are right.” Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.

“Thank you. However there is some difference between the ways Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and I imitate you.”

“Allah, you both are trying to make me something more than I myself feel to be.” Kħadījah Muħammad tried to be modest.

“I appreciate your modesty.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said, “However, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan imitates you blindly while I tried to do something more you didn’t, yet Durgesh deserved to be done with.”

I laughed.

“Hey you two! What the hell you think I am?”

“The greatest Hindu lover of us Musalmān Beauties in the entire history of humanity. Kħadījah Muħammad raped you when she met you first. But I kidnapped you first, and then raped you.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah winked at both of us.

“Mar béħayā!” I kissed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah on her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips.

“Thank you.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah kissed me back gratefully, as if highly indebted to me.

I myself undressed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah and then I started fucking her.

“Thank you once again.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked gratefully at Kħadījah Muħammad, “I never thought you’d honor me by gifting Durgesh to me.”

“You are most welcome.” Kħadījah Muħammad smiled at her big heartedly, “He is fucking me nonstop for hours. I wanted some time to breathe myself. You are an Allahdād opportunity.”

“Thank you.”

“I notice you’re breathless and excited. How about some juice, or even some drink if you prefer?”

“Well, that’s very nice of you. However, no thanks. Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Penis into my ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt would give me everything I need.”

Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.

“That’s what I thought.”

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for it.”

“It’s alright. Go ahead and enjoy. What’s the problem anyway?”

My Uncut Hindu Prick was already lubricated from the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān vaginal juices of Kħadījah Muħammad.

Now, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was herself wet too.

My Uncut Hindu Prick was fully embedded now in a new Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah had pushed her extremely beautiful glorious gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my male Hindu lap and was enjoying my Uncut Hindu Cock entirely vanished into her eagerly responsive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān vaginal depths.

“Durgesh, my Hindu love, it’s a long story.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said.

“Go ahead. Nothing to worry. Tell me everything. Dump it to me and forget it.”*

“Well, you know, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī and I started the Ruqayyah Fātimah Flower Shops. That was before Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī was married. We each had half of the stock except a small block of five shares. We gave it to Nafīsah Salmān Ammī. I’ve always liked her. Nafīsah Salmān Ammī is rather naïve. But her shrewd daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan full of endless tact now has managed to pick up the five shares of stock that we had given to Nafīsah Salmān Ammī.”

I smiled.

“And you think Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wants to pry in your business?”

“I thought so at the time.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said bitterly, “When your JetMusalmān Beauties Queen, your utmost dearest Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the entirely shameless nudist feminist, the new everfirst President of Saůūdī Årab, handed over the stock for transfer, she joked about being a silent partner. But I think there’s something far more sinister back of it.”

I kissed Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah passionately, pulled my Uncut Hindu Cock out of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, till only its head remained inside between her ravenous quivering labial lips, squeezed her boobs and then thrust my Uncut Hindu Cock all the way inside wildly.

She jumped on her back enjoying the miraculous Hindu sex kicks very much.

Her legs were on my nude Hindu shoulders and I was on top of her between her beautiful legs.

My Uncut Hindu Cock vanished into her extremely ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt to the hilt.

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled her indebtedness to me, thanking me with her extremely beautiful eyes.

She kissed me passionately responding my loving Hindu attacks.

I was playing with her plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks.

“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wouldn’t be any problem to you. Don’t worry, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah. Leave the Sālī to me.”

“She is very dangerous, Durgesh.”

“Not to my women.”

“You protect Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan despite her every naughty activity. She must be disciplined, Durgesh, at least to you.”

“Okay, relax now. Forget her. Leave Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan to me. I’d tell her not to interfere with you anymore.”

“The problem is Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī married Muħammad Ůsmān a little over a year ago, about eighteen months ago.”

“I understand.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah made a little gesture.

It was more expressive than words.

“The bastard manages my sister’s money.”

“Not any more, dear.”

“He doesn’t need to.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said bitterly.

“What do you mean?”

“I think Muħammad Ůsmān isn’t a fool enough to wait indefinitely. As soon as her plan to kill Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī, in that accident, backfired he went to his other alternative. He has already done he wanted to do. Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī, in my opinion, has already lost her stock.”

“You haven’t any proof against Muħammad Ůsmān, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah. Never forget it. You only suspect him.” I said gravely.

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah watched me apprehensively.

“What do you want to say, Durgesh? I should forget he staged that accident? Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī would have died in it if her subconscious mind hadn’t received my warnings and acted accordingly.”

“That’s right. But we haven’t any evidence that it had been staged by Muħammad Ůsmān.”

“Do you want to say that he is innocent?”

“No, certainly not. We haven’t any evidence either that he is innocent even.”

“So?”

“We must be cautious. Yet, we must not forget that even Muħammad Ůsmān maybe innocent.”

“I don’t think so.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said curtly.

“Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah knows the true state of her finances?”

“Now she is.”

“Now?”

“Now.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said bitterly. “Muħammad Ůsmān is himself not a damnfool. He still flatters Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī and complains that we have punished him unjustifiably. We haven’t given him even any benefit of doubt.”

“Well, I myself told you so when you both the sisters were adamant to cuckold him.”

“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s ‘Cuckold Your Musalmān husband’ movement had blinded us.”

“Now, think, if Muħammad Ůsmān turns out innocent, how would we face him?”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed ironically.

“If.”

“Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.”

“I appreciate his daring and patience, however.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even now, when we’ve cuckolded him, Muħammad Ůsmān acts righteous. He says Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s ‘Cuckold Your Musalmān husband’ movement has blinded us both more than even you are. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is your living sex goddess, yet you still don’t support Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan blindly. You still give Musalmīn the benefit of doubt that most of us Musalmān Beauties even don’t.”

“I agree with him.”

“Nonsense! Muħammad Ůsmān understands the attentions women crave. You know how it is with a Musalmān when his Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife has money, as Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī has. It isn’t a shame for Musalmīn they learn it eagerly.”

“Not only Musalmīn, there are other non Musalmīn that also act similarly.”

“And that solves our problem?” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled ironically.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Are you tired of protecting us Musalmān Beauties from our oppressor Musalmān husbands?”

“Not yet.” I smiled impishly.

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah squeezed my Uncut Hindu Cock contracting her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān vaginal grip around it on its entire length.

“Ouch! What are you doing?” I moaned.

“Stop acting impish when you fuck me.”

“Sālī!”

“Are you really sixty three?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I kidnapped you, you were only thirty one and I was twenty eight.”

“I contradicted you even then.”

“I have checked your entire electoral record, income tax record, sale tax record etcetera. You were born on 2^nd February 1979.”

“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has managed to change my entire papers everywhere.”

“No one believes you. You lack to provide optimum evidence for it.”

“What do you want to say, I’m thirty three only?”

“That’s what your every record in India proves, and even your record elsewhere.”

“Ask Kħadījah Muħammad when she raped me.”

“Isn’t she crazy for you enough, to vouch for everything you say?”

“Well?” I looked at Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah tartly.

“Play ball with us JetMusalmān Beauties, Durgesh. Don’t try to avoid us. Don’t you ever think your obsession for mature Musalmān Beauties has already gone far afield?”

I gritted my teeth.

“Are you a member of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s JetMusalmān BeautiesSquad?”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed.

“Only because I’m thirty?”

“I’ve told you the other activities from you already, haven’t I?”

She winked at me.

“Fuck the entire JetMusalmān BeautiesSquad of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and enjoy méré Hindu Piyā.”

“I would have cheerfully if Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan were not using it for her political purposes.”

“I don’t believe you. Peruse what Dr. Ali Sina and his co-authors write on faith freedom.org. When you prove them wrong we Musalmān Beauties would accept the Pseudo Musalmīn are not punishable by ‘Cuckold Your Musalmān husband’ movement of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. Never before it. Muħammad Ůsmān isn’t a moderate Musalmān because, there doesn’t exist any moderate Musalmān.”

“According to Dr. Ali Sina.”

“According to facts, damn it. Don’t tell me now that you Hindus are now tired of us Musalmān Beauties. I can’t believe even you Hindus are now afraid of Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists, Criminals/ Criminal Minded persons.”

Chapter 29

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KĦĀTŪN-E-JANNAT: 27

Posted: June 9, 2012 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, Al Sāliħah Al Rashīd, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, HLMCIC, Iqbāl Rashīd, life sciences, Lily Turner, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Shaguftah Rashīd, Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk | 4 Comments

Kħātūn-e-Jannat

Chapter 27

Durgesh ACP Suraiyā Jamāl

DurgeshLily Turner

Al Sāliħah Al Rashīd was also proud of her daughter, Lily Turner.

Despite Shaguftah Rashīd wasn’t her real sister, Lily Turner didn’t love her lesser.

There was a grand difference of age between Lily Turner and Shaguftah Rashīd.

Shaguftah Rashīd was twenty-eight now, while Lily Turner was twenty-eight while she first met me.

Yet, due to my Svarūpé Avasthānam, none of us looked aged.

Lily Turner still looked anywhere in her late thirties.

Actually, she was sixty-two now, on the brim of completing her sixty-three even.

Shaguftah Rashīd, her younger half sister, was twenty-five years younger to Lily Turner.*

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl turned to me.

“The bastard.” She said.

I smiled fucking her more passionately,

“Imām Muħammad Ħasan doesn’t know where Shaguftah Rashīd lives?”

“No. He says there are certain female shareholders who don’t want to come in the open, supporting Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. Imām Muħammad Ħasan doesn’t have their addresses. They are kept secret.”

“And Shaguftah Rashīd is one of them?”

“And Shaguftah Rashīd is one of them.”

“Maybe he is really not entrusted. Yet, it sounds goofy to me.”

“To me too.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl roared.

“Anyway, that’s his story.”

The door from the manager’s apartment opened.

Raziyah Najmul Ħasan, wearing a housedress, came toward us.

Her face had been given a generous application of rouge somewhat evenly applied.

She smiled at us,

“I…”

Raziyah Najmul Ħasan turned toward the door.

We followed her gaze.

Through the plate glass, we saw a slim waisted young man run up the porch stairs, and jab a key into the lock of the door.

Raziyah Najmul Ħasan had time to say, before the door opened,

“This is Iqbāl Rashīd now.”

We waited until Iqbāl Rashīd was well on his way toward the elevator.

I noticed his half running pace and the excited tension that seemed to grip him.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl asked.

“Putting out a fire?”

Iqbāl Rashīd apparently saw us for the first time.

He jerked to a standing stop, and stared.

Raziyah Najmul Ħasan said, ingratiatingly,

“Iqbāl Rashīd, this is…”

“Let me handle it.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl interrupted.

She stepped forward and jerked back the lapel of her coat so that Iqbāl Rashīd could see her badge and stars.

Iqbāl Rashīd’s reaction to it was instantaneous.

He half turned back toward the big plate glass door as if about to run.

By an obvious effort Iqbāl Rashīd caught himself and turned to ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.

His face was white.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was ominously, threateningly silent.

She watched Iqbāl Rashīd’s countenance.

It began to twitch.

Realizing he was trapped, Iqbāl Rashīd took a deep breath.

Even I could see his hands clenching into fists.

“Well,” he asked, “what is it?”

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl took her time in answering.

I also studied Iqbāl Rashīd.

He was a small boned slim hipped man.

His coat was heavily padded at the shoulders.

The even tan of his face indicated that he habitually went without a hat and was much in the open.

His hair, black and glossy, waved back from his forehead with a rippling regularity that suggested the touch of a professional hairdresser.

His height was medium and he didn’t weigh much more than a hundred and thirty pounds.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl’s voice had the rasping belligerence of a police officer dealing with a law violator.

“What’s the hurry?”

“I wanted to get to bed.” Iqbāl Rashīd controlled himself surprisingly.

He even managed to smile at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl feigning good manners even.

I warned ACP Suraiyā Jamāl in an eyes-to-eyes message.

She reassured me similarly without using even a single word.

“You certainly steamed up about it.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl watched him sharply.

Iqbāl Rashīd managed to smile sophisticatedly.

He didn’t comment.

“We want some information.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said aggressively.

“Sure, ma’am. Whatever I can help the law.”

“Shaguftah Rashīd is your sister?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We’re trying to locate her. We got a lead to you.”

“Well, Shaguftah Bājī doesn’t live with me.”

“Where does she live?”

“She has her own residence, Shaguftah Rashīd Apartments.”

“I see. Your Bājī is that Shaguftah Rashīd?”

“My Bājī is that Shaguftah Rashīd. Don’t I appear to be her younger brother, ma’am?” Iqbāl Rashīd tried to be cheerful now.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl maintained her impersonal belligerent police behavior.

“When did you see her last?”

“Last? Why? Is there something abnormal, officer?”

“Don’t try to question me, young chap. Just answer me. When did you see her last?”

“A week ago? An hour ago?” I too asked.

“Oh, probably yesterday sometime. She’s at the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. I too am manager there.”

“At Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club?”

“Yes, ma’am. Is there anything wrong?”

“Not that the police know of. Yet, there are so many Musalmīn that think the name of the club is disgraceful to them. Don’t you yourself think so?”

“The Musalmīn that think so, don’t know the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club is actually owned by internationally renowned and well established zillionaires, trillionaires, billionaires and at least multi-millionaires Musalmān Beauties. The Hindus have a too much negligible shareholding in the club. So even if it is a disgrace to the Musalmīn, the Hindus are not responsible for it. The internationally capable, accomplished, talented, proficient, skilled, gifted, adept, skillful, clever, and influential, powerful Musalmān Beauties are accountable for it. Most of them are feminist nudists. They don’t think the name of the club is disgraceful to them. Instead, they think it’s disgraceful to the Hindus, not to Musalmīn. ”

“What? Disgraceful to the Hindus? How?”

“Ask them, the owners of the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club I mean.”

“I see.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You deserve to be a manager there. Quite efficient. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Never mind. Okay. Go on to bed. We shan’t need you anymore. Thanks for your cooperation. The Shaguftah Rashīd Apartments is on Brahmarshi Street, isn’t it?”

“That’s right ma’am.” Iqbāl Rashīd said good-naturedly.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl nodded to me,

“Okay, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, let’s go, I think.”*

Leaving the CIA building for the White House in her chauffeur driven black limousine, Lily Turner had entered the west basement.

After nodding good morning to several National Security officers, Lily Turner hastened up a narrow flight of stairs to the office of Dr. Shāhidah Ashraf, the recommended Chief of Staff of White House.

The office was two doors down from the President’s Oval Office.

Inside, three of Dr. Shāhidah Ashraf’s aides, informally attired, were lounging about discussing the contents of a speech President of USA, Jimmy Carter, would soon deliver on cuts in domestic spending.

Lily Turner hadn’t seen Durgesh praising any President of USA as much as he was praising Jimmy Carter now.

Were the rumors true?

Is Durgesh really capable to replace anyone after his so-called Svarūpé Avasthānam?

President Jimmy Carter was really now Durgesh in his one of the infinite projected bodies?

Nonsense.

How is it possible?

How a person can has his two bodies so drastically different in almost everything?

What’s there common between Durgesh and President Jimmy Carter?

Wasn’t Karl Marx right when he said that Religion is opium of people?

Yes, Soviet Union isn’t the friend of USA.

But it doesn’t mean that everything whatsoever the Soviet Union believes in is wrong.

After returning the greetings Lily Turner looked significantly at Dr. Shāhidah Ashraf, the recommended Chief of Staff of White House.

Dr. Shāhidah Ashraf dismissed the aides, postponing the conference on speech for later in the day.

At the moment both Lily Turner and she were expected in the president’s Oval Office to give Evelyn Carter a general picture of the lunch with Durgesh, the Mayor of Ved Nagar.

Mayor?

Hell, Durgesh is actually representing not only India now.

Durgesh is actually representing both the Secular Hindus and Secular Musalmīn spread everywhere internationally.

Yes, Durgesh doesn’t say so in so many words.

But it may fool only the morons, not Lily Turner.

Seated across from Evelyn Carter, Lily Turner felt at ease.

She had known Evelyn Carter a long time.

A PhD from Harvard University, Lily Turner, was very confident she could use Evelyn Carter to the best interest of United States.

She knew she was extremely beautiful.

When Durgesh fucks her, she understood how obsessed he is to fuck Lily Turner.

Since her first sexual intercourse with Durgesh, Durgesh’s obsession in fucking Lily Turner has increased the more he fucked her.

Heavens, how wildly Durgesh thrusts into her Baptist Christian Cunt his Vedic Monotheist Uncut Hindu Cock.

She always felt a great triumph of her Baptist Christian Cunt on my Vedic Monotheist Uncut Hindu Lund whenever I went so wild fucking Lily Turner.

Brilliant, smart and pleasant, with a constantly benign expression, Lily Turner’s affability suited Evelyn Carter.

So did her intellect and her ability at organization.

Now Lily Turner tried to fill Evelyn Carter in on the situation in Ved Nagar, my Svarūpé Avasthānam , the fact that I was the democratic head of Hindu Vishv Underground when it dissolved into Vyom.

Evelyn Carter appeared to be only half listening.

She gradually managed to turn the subject matter to the sex championship contest in Washington D.C. between Musalmān Beauties and Christian Beauties.

I was the male partner, and officially that was the reason I was there.

“Who do you think, Lily Turner, would win?” Evelyn Carter had asked after Lily Turner’s extensive briefing of her on my Svarūpé Avasthānam.

Lily Turner was neither sure nor actually, she was interested.

What the hell difference does it make?

She double-talked.

She knew only who would lose if Lily Turner didn’t get Evelyn Carter back on the rails about Ved Nagar and my Svarūpé Avasthānam.

Evelyn Carter was impatient somewhat.

“Look, Lily Turner, let’s go to Ved Nagar and Durgesh’s so called damn (Shanno Mitrah!) Svarūpé Avasthānam later. Do I have to hear it all twice? Let’s go over it at the cabinet meeting. Then it’ll be fresh in my mind when I settle down to lunch with Durgesh.”

“Evelyn Carter,” Lily Turner grunted, “we are preparing you for the next president. If you don’t want to…”

Evelyn Carter laughed.

“We have four years now for it, dearie, haven’t we?”

Lily Turner held Evelyn Carter’s hand and twisted it somewhat.

“Ouch!” Evelyn Carter jumped up, “what are you doing?”

“Trying to make you listen to me, you moron.”

Evelyn Carter winked at her.

“I’m dying to watch Durgesh fucking us Christian Beauties.”

“He’d fuck Musalmān Beauties as well. And the Musalmān Beauties would win the contest.”

“Damn you! How do you know?”

When Lily Turner returned to her quarters, annoyed at her failure to get anywhere with Evelyn Carter, she considered phoning Dr. Åārifah Mustafā, Secretary to Secretary of State, Cyrus Vance, and Dr. Shāhidah Ashraf, the recommended Chief of Staff of White House, to pick up on the speech about cuts in domestic spending.*

The Shaguftah Rashīd Apartments was a little walk up.

Here again ACP Suraiyā Jamāl and I encountered a locked door, a series of mailboxes and call bells.

There was no answer at Shaguftah Rashīd bell.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl summoned the manager again.

She ordered her to follow us up to the apartment with a passkey.

We climbed two flights of stairs, as the elevator wasn’t in working order temporarily then.

All the three of us, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl I and the beautiful manager of Shaguftah Rashīd Apartments, walked down a narrow, yet heavily carpeted corridor, fragrant with wonderfully pleasant aroma and the lighted emanations that fill an excellent ventilated place where people were sleeping.

It was noticeable that the immigrant apartment owners were providing more facilities to their tenants and customers in Ved Nagar than even the original residents.

They had to.

They had to win the tenants and customers from the original residents.

It had started a healthy competition between the immigrant apartment owners and the original residents of Ved Nagar in providing more and more facilities to their tenants and customers.

My administration there was encouraging it more and more.

It was impartial.

We wanted to encourage immigration.

Shaguftah Rashīd’s apartment was in the middle.

A light showed over the transom.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl knocked.

There wasn’t any answer.

She nodded to the beautiful manager.

“Okay. Open it up.”*

The beautiful manager of Shaguftah Rashīd Apartments hesitated a moment, then looked at me.

I nodded.

The door had Eīshān Vaigyānic lock.

While it was locked from inside it needed the Eīshān Vaigyānic rays emanating either from Shaguftah Rashīd’s own Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt or from the Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt of the beautiful manager.

My Vedic Monotheist Uncut Hindu Lund generated the required Eīshān Vaigyānic rays entering these Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunts.

The beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān manager, Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk, unzipped me and I undressed her myself.

Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk sucked me and as soon as it was ready enough to fuck her, I nodded her to go into rukū.

Then I started to fuck Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk from her gorgeous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān behind.

It was her first time with me.

Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk felt immensely honored.

I fucked Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk wildly until the required Eīshān Vaigyānic rays emanated from our wildly active genitals.

Even then, Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk whispered.

“Please honor my femininity by coming into me.”

I obliged her.*

The door clicked back.

The figure of a blond woman dressed in a tweed skirt and jacket stockings and rubber soled gold shoes, lay sprawled near the door.

The telephone had been knocked from a small spindly-legged stand to the floor.

A box of the chocolate creams was open on the table, and some wrapping paper.

It was evident that in the wrapping paper the chocolate box had been tied folded itself neatly around the edges of the box.

The cover lay slightly to one side.

On the cover, there was a chocolate smudged card.

It said:

‘These will make you feel better.’

The card was signed with the initials ‘FMA’.

The chocolates were cradled in little paper cups.

A blank space in the upper tray furnished the sole clue as to the number that had been eaten.

I made a swift survey.

I estimated that eight or ten were missing from the top layer of the box.

The lower layer seemed untouched.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl bent over the young woman, felt her pulse and twisted to the manager of the apartments, Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.

“You must be a highly qualified doctor to qualify for being a manager here in Eīshān Vaigyānic areas. Are you?”

“Sure.” Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk immediately was all-alert.

“I’m going downstairs. I’ve to call Inspector Pratāp at headquarters. I’ve to tell him I’ve found Shaguftah Rashīd and the candy. It’s evident that she’s been poisoned. I’ve to order Inspector Pratāp to rush out the fingerprint staff and an ambulance.”

“We may need your decisions as a competent police officer for what to do in certain medical turn outs while checking her.” Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk protested, “Why don’t you use your mobile here to instruct your staff necessarily?”

“I may have to instruct my staff clandestinely.”

“That can wait. Your presence here is far more necessary. It can’t wait.”

“Okay. Go ahead. Check her.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl immediately decided.

I dropped to one knee to look down on the unconscious Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty.

“Should we straighten her out?” I looked at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl and Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.

Without answering me Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk took my already out Uncut Hindu Cock and shoved it into Shaguftah Rashīd’s extremely beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.

To my immense surprise, the unconscious Shaguftah Rashīd immediately responded and started to suck my Uncut Hindu Cock in her very unconsciousness.

I started to harden once more.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled and winked at me.

I looked at Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.

Then both of us, Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk and I smiled at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.

“I think it’s Eīshān Vaigyānic first aid? Isn’t it?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled.

“Sure. That’s right.” Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk confirmed.

“What if it were a man?”

“The men need different sort of first aid in Eīshān Vigyān.”

Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk felt Shaguftah Rashīd’s pulse.

Shaguftah Rashīd’s face was slightly congested.

Her breathing was slow and seemed labored.

The skin was surprisingly cold to the touch.

“Looks more like a drug than an active poison.” Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said, “I think if you fuck her immediately perhaps we can bring her out of it without any more medical help.”

I looked at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.

There was a legal question in my eyes.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl immediately took the necessary decision.

“Go ahead Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, fuck her.”

“Nonsense. She is unconscious. She may hate me for what you both tell me to do with her.”*

Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said curtly.

“You didn’t hesitate when you’d to fuck me.”

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl laughed.

“You are more beautiful than Shaguftah Rashīd, if she is really Shaguftah Rashīd.”

“Nonsense.” Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk said, “And she is really Shaguftah Rashīd. Naturally you don’t think I don’t know my employer even.”

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled.

“Well, she has spread her legs. Perhaps even in her unconsciousness she is inviting you to go ahead and fuck her.”

“Is she married?” I asked Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.

“Yes. Why did you ask?”

“Call her husband. He must consent first in writing that I can fuck his Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife to treat her medically in Sex Therapy.”

Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk laughed bitterly.

“How do you know it wasn’t her husband that has drugged her to death? Musalmān Beauties don’t join Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club if they maintain healthy married life with their wretched Musalmān husbands.”

“Well,” I hesitated.

“Fuck her.” Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk shouted, “She is losing the temperature of her body. She has been drugged to die of coldness, I think.”

“Durgesh, go ahead. Damn it.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl also shouted, “I think when she was telephoning you her husband had heard somehow and succeeded in drugging her.”

“Do you know her husband’s name?” I looked at Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk.

“Fahīm Muħammad Åbbās.”

“FMA.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl roared.

“Durgesh, to hell with your ethics.” Ħāfizah Kalām-e-Pāk roared, “I request you medically to fuck her to save her life.”*

Chapter 28

——————————————————————————————

KĦĀTŪN-E-JANNAT: 20

Posted: May 2, 2012 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb, HLMCIC, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Kħadeejah Muħammad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Raziyah Najmul Ħasan, Senator Imām Muħammad Yåqūb, Shaguftah Rashīd, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Suraiyā Jamāl, Ved Nagar | 3 Comments

Kħātūn-e-Jannat

Chapter 20

Durgesh Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb

Durgesh ACP Suraiyā Jamāl

It looked good.

Given its placement, the whip drew the eyes to the curves of her gorgeous Musalmān breasts and added more visual appeal to the beautiful young woman.

“Now replace the bloody whip with your Uncut Hindu Cock.” Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb suddenly winked at me.

“What?” I couldn’t believe I’d heard her right.

“That’s right. Do it. Fuck me you Hindu stupid. Today is my birthday. I want your utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Lund as my birthday present.”

“Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb, are you crazy?”

“Certainly not, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! Instead, you are crazy who really believed I won’t fuck you.”

“Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb.”

“Undress yourself and mount me.”

I hesitated somewhat.

“Don’t hesitate. Can’t you see? You’ve bound me on your bed. If I shout now, who wouldn’t believe that you are raping me?”

“I never thought you’d do it to me.”

The contrast of the black leather whip with the yellow-dominated pajama shirt also attracted my attention.

The result was that I gazed upon Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb’s chest for far longer than was needed, and once I realized what I was doing, I felt myself excited to have sex myself with this Just eighteen Just adult Musalmān Beauty.

Damn Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad.

They had successfully made me more ravenous to have sex with the Just eighteen Just adult Musalmān Beauties instead of having sex with the mature Musalmān Beauties suitable for my own age.

In the ancient and medieval times the shamelessly cruel, less human and more beast, Årab Musalmān Slave Traders used to do it to sell their young adult Musalmān lady slaves.

Now Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad are doing it to me.

I stood and turned away from her in an attempt to hide my discomfort.

“It’s okay,” I heard her say softly, “Come on, fuck me. You don’t need to be embarrassed at all.”

Sure of what she meant now, I turned to face her again, even though I could still feel the heat of my lust for her.

“I don’t mind if you look at me, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!” Muħammad Ålī’s Sister clarified smiling. “To be honest, I don’t mind if you even fuck me wildly. That’s what I really was after. Come on.”

Her expressive hazel eyes were full of truth and trust.

The truth was not a surprise, as the few times I could ever remember her lying to me was to protect a surprise she was preparing for me.

Yet the trust…

Her trust touched me deeply.

Her trust in me was the reason that she was bound to my bed at all, but the depth of her trust conveyed by her eyes…

Somehow, that trust gave me the strength I needed to reinvigorate my professionalism.

I felt the discomfort dissipating, although I bent over the bed long enough to kiss her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān virgin cunt.

It was a bonding moment which transcended her physical bondage, one which I knew would cause her spirit to soar in that reaffirmation of the connection she and I had shared for more than twenty years.

Only then did I finally retrieve the movie camera and, put it at the foot of the bed, began to record the movie.

My Uncut Hindu Lund’s position was changed multiple times upon her chest and then later moved to her groin where it was also featured in multiple positions.

I lost track of time, my mind fully focused instead on the lighting, the camera position, occasionally giving her an instruction to create an even better pose for the movie camera.

And then, the camera set atop the dresser, I sat beside her on the bed again, retrieving my Uncut Hindu Lund and gently dangling its tip across her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Just eighteen Just adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.

Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb smiled at the gesture, and that emboldened me as I dragged my Uncut Hindu Lund down her neck, down her chest, and repeatedly brushed it gently and slowly back and forth across her gorgeous Musalmān breasts.

Her eyes fluttered closed as her head tipped back upon the pillow, her arms pulling against the tethered cuffs, her back arching noticeably, her lips parting.

What I was doing to her was clearly more and more arousing for her, and even though she was Muħammad Ålī’s Sister, I felt a sense of pride in being able to give her such a unique, kinky pleasure.

I couldn’t preach her not to do it.

She would’ve gone to someone else.

Wasn’t that more dangerous?

Wasn’t it better to do it myself?

The gentle brushing of her gorgeous Musalmān breasts did not last very long ― maybe thirty seconds at most ― but when I finally set my Uncut Hindu Lund beside her on the bed, Muħammad Ålī’s Sister whimpered sadly, sounding very much like a puppy who wanted to be fed but had no one available to open a bag of dog food.

Glancing back to her chest, I noticed a pair of small indentations pressing against the inside of her pajama shirt.

“I guess that really did feel good for you,” I said softly, smiling with amusement.

“Yeah…” Her voice was breathy, sultry, and almost intimate.

She finally opened her eyes and looked up at me again, the trust still prominent within her hazel orbs.

“Can we do a few more pictures?” she asked.

“Sure,” I replied. “What did you have in mind?”

She hesitated slightly, which was again a significant sign and made me wonder exactly what she had in mind.

“Would you unbutton me and do a few with your Uncut Hindu Lund across my naked chest?”

I definitely had not expected that request, not from Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb.

“Are you really sure you want me to fuck your…” I began, unable to complete the sentence as my mind attempted to reconcile her request with the deeply internalized norms of society.

“I’m sure,” she affirmed, adding a slow nod. “Just do titty-fuck me now, okay?”

Time seemed to again slow considerably as I leaned over her.

This time, I did not attempt to purposely avoid Muħammad Ålī’s Sister’s breasts.

Beginning with the top button, I slowly exposed her feminine parts to my eyes for the very first time, and when the unbuttoned pajama shirt was finally spread open to provide a full view of her uncovered breasts, I wasn’t even slightly embarrassed by the soft sound of admiration I heard escaping from my own lips.

Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb blushed a little, but otherwise showed absolutely no reaction.

Her nipples were still hard little points, fleshy pink pebbles adorning her gorgeous Musalmān breasts.

To My amazement, she had only the faintest of tan lines indicating that she had ever worn a bra, which made me wonder if she was a regular user of tanning beds or if perhaps she took advantage of the tall fencing surrounding the tiny back yard of the house she shared with Taħsīn Jalāl Sheikħ to tan topless or even fully nude.

Once again, I became consciously aware of my own extreme arousal.

I was also consciously aware of how much I wanted to touch her in an intimate way.

Although my hands had done the actual deed, she had bared a significant area of her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body to me.

It was so very tempting to reach to her chest and gently squeeze a breast.

Fortunately, I felt society’s call, which caused me to turn my attention to my Uncut Hindu Lund instead.

Carefully, I placed my Uncut Hindu Lund diagonally across her chest, nestling it between her beautiful breasts, my hand inherently brushing against one of her swells and noting its warmth.

My eyes locked with hers, and she smiled slightly as if attempting to reassure me that she did not mind the contact from me, her older Durgesh darling, her Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, Musalmān ħasīnāon kā Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of the Musalmān Beauties!

I rose from the bed, retrieved the camera, and was once again at work.

Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb looked so beautiful, so vulnerable, and so selfless.

And amazingly, she appeared to be completely at peace despite being bound to the bedposts with my Uncut Hindu Lund draped across her naked chest.

Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb took my Uncut Hindu Lund in her hand and started playing with it.

Almost half an hour Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb played with my Uncut Hindu Lund.

Then she kissed and licked it passionately.

It wasn’t easy not to blast premature.

Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb swallowed my Uncut Hindu Lund in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and started sucking me wildly.

I smiled and fucked her mouth enjoying now it very much.

Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb sucked me for hours.

I blasted gallons of my Hindu Vīrý into her until virgin Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.

Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb swallowed it all gratefully indebted to me.

Then she smiled at me.

“Thank you, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! Now please untie me and fuck me wildly until I exist.”*

I fucked Ghausiyah Muħammad Yåqūb in every position she requested me to fuck her.

Not on that day only.

It went on for complete one month nonstop.

She declared it was our honeymoon and she was my new Live in Relationship Partner now.

I granted her request.

I had to.

She was also a hyper sexual and perhaps only I was the suitable sex partner for her too.*

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was enjoying my Uncut Hindu Cock into her Makkan Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt very much.

“We offered Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah a one o’clock appointment, thinking that might make her back out. She understood Kħadījah Muħammad and me both very well. She was the young adult Musalmān Beauty that herself raped me. She…”

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl laughed.

“How many Musalmān Beauties have raped you till now, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties?”

I smiled myself somewhat proudly, somewhat impishly, somewhat incensed.

“Sālī, that doesn’t mean you Musalmān Beauties are stronger than me.”

“Okay, Almighty, how many?”

I pulled out my Uncut Hindu Cock out of ACP Suraiyā Jamāl’s still much younger Makkan Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt until only its head was inside.

Then I pushed it ferociously with so much strength and lust that even ACP Suraiyā Jamāl jumped up in her rukū.

She squeezed her lower lip strongly with her upper teeth to the extent that even some blood came out from her lower lip.

My penetration of her still much younger Makkan Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt was far more much stronger than ACP Suraiyā Jamāl had anticipated.

“Why are you asking?”

“How many? Don’t try to avoid the question as I won’t allow you to do so.”

“I can understand what you want to say.” I held her nude waist strongly, pulled out my Uncut Hindu Cock once again out of ACP Suraiyā Jamāl’s still much younger Makkan Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt until only its head was inside.

Then I pushed it more ferociously with so much strength and lust that even ACP Suraiyā Jamāl jumped up in her rukū despite her every effort not to jump up.

She squeezed her lower lip strongly once more, with her upper teeth to the extent that even some blood came out from her lower lip once again.

My penetration of her still much younger Makkan Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt was even far more much stronger than ACP Suraiyā Jamāl had anticipated this time too.

Then I was repeating my action again and again more and more ferociously.

It was not easy for even ACP Suraiyā Jamāl to bear my sexual assaults effortlessly.

“Tear up my Musalmān Cunt with your almighty Uncut Hindu Lund but you have to answer my question. How many Musalmān Beauties have raped you till now, Hindu almighty?”

“Sālī, yes, they are countless. So what?”

“My poor Durgesh darling, méré béchāré Hindu Piyā, poor Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké béchāré Hindu Kħasam, poor Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl teased me smiling.

“Shut up.” I said, “Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah grabbed at the appointment.”

“Let’s start working from the other end.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl suggested, “Let’s find out from Shaguftah Rashīd…”

“Stop daydreaming. We haven’t found her even. Kħadījah Muħammad is still trying in my Param Purush Ummahāt-Al-Åālmīn Param Prāsād, Durgesh Kħadījah Muħammad Antarvyom, interspace,”

“Contact her. Maybe she has found out something till now.”

“You are right.” I said.

I tried my mobile.

It showed the network busy.

There was a telephone too.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl marched to it on her knees and elbows.

I was still behind her fucking her passionately now.

I called Kħadījah Muħammad.

“Hi, Kħadījah Muħammad, anything new, Mérī Jān?”

“Are you fucking someone?”

“Yes,” I smiled proudly, “How the hell did you know?”

“The ferocious sounds of your consummating sex with her, those of the ferocious sexual assaults and penetrations are clearly audible even here on the phone.”

“Smart girl,” I said appreciatively, “Our poor ACP Suraiyā Jamāl is getting my ferocious appreciation for her extraordinary Meccan Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty.”

Kħadījah Muħammad laughed.

“Moderate your sexual assaults on her. Otherwise she would be incapable to assist you as a competent police officer. Your Uncut Hindu Prick is too strong to accommodate when you are in this mood.”

“You are right. Hell, everyone is right perhaps at present, except me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Never mind. Is there anything new?”

“None, sorry. Haven’t been able to get a thing.” Kħadījah Muħammad said, “I find there are three branches of Ruqayyah Fātimah Flower Shops, each with a separate phone. I’ve been calling them in turn.”

“No answer?”

“No answer.”

“Well, we’ve got a lead on Iqbāl Rashīd. Yet, we couldn’t locate him. I left word that Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Muħammad Ålī’s partner, was to call as soon as he comes in.”

“Would he really help us? You are fucking his entire Musalmān houseladies. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is his real daughter and she is fucking you openly in public places too. Imām Muħammad Ħasan might feel himself extremely humiliated.”

“Yaar, I don’t think Imām Muħammad Ħasan is such an idiot that he can’t differentiate between what I’m doing and what his real daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, the ultramodern Kħātūn-e-Jannat razī Allāhu tålā ånhā, is. It’s Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan fucking me openly in public places. I’m not.”

“And if Imām Muħammad Ħasan refused to understand his daughter is actually a nudist feminist, then…”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we reach it. Why think negative prematurely?”

“You are right.”

“If you get an address, call police headquarters direct.”

“Tell Kħadījah Muħammad Bājī to ask for Inspector Pratāp.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said.

“Ask for Inspector Pratāp.” I went on, “Tell him to rush some radio officers out to Shaguftah Rashīd’s apartment, and break in the door if they have to.”

I hung up.

“Suraiyā, suppose there’s any use calling Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club? After all Imām Muħammad Ħasan might not have telephoned protesting me.”

“That’s right.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said.

Balancing herself on her knees and one of her elbows, she punched her mobile.

I looked down and saw something green under the table on which the telephone rested.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl caught my attention.

Before I could stoop down, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl picked it up and gave it to me.

“Handkerchief?” I commented.

“That’s right, a woman’s handkerchief.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said, “it may belong to Raziyah Najmul Ħasan.”

“Nope!” I snapped, “you gave it to me before studying it yourself optimum. There are three letters embroidered in it: FMA.”

“Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah?”

“Let’s not jump on conclusions.”

“Okay. Imām Muħammad Ħasan came in Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club just now, according to what the girl says. He may have been there some time. Protesting you, Imām Muħammad Ħasan might have decided not to bother with a call. I’m having her put Imām Muħammad Ħasan on… Hello, Imām Muħammad Ħasan. This is ACP Suraiyā Jamāl. I left word for you to call police headquarters. Why didn’t you do it? Not cooperating with the police?… Well, isn’t it funny that you just got there as I was telephoning?”

There was an interval.

During that the receiver made noises.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl winked at me.

“Well,” She interrupted abruptly, “never mind all the explanations. I know, because your real daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is a nudist feminist, she deliberately uses to have sex with Durgesh, openly in public places, to humiliate you Pseudo Musalmīn. You feel humiliated. But Durgesh isn’t responsible for what your legally adult daughter does to humiliate you Pseudo Musalmīn.”

The receiver again made noises.

“I don’t let you interrupt my police investigation. Your matter with Durgesh and your nudist feminist daughter Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan… She isn’t nudist feminist? Well, I don’t agree with you… Never mind, listen to me. I want to know where the hell Shaguftah Rashīd lives… Don’t threaten me with the high approach of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. I know despite all the vulgarity in its name, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club is a legal international organization. So what?”

The receiver made noises once more.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl again listened to it patiently.

Then she said rather curtly.

“Shaguftah Rashīd must have a residence somewhere. She is one of the major shareholders of your internationally esteemed Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. You must have the addresses of your entire shareholders, major or minor. I want to get to Shaguftah Rashīd right away. What’s that? You are forgetting that you are talking with the ACP responsible for law and order here at Ved Nagar. Well, why the hell don’t you open the bloody safe immediately and look it up? Imām Muħammad Ħasan, I’m not pleased with your cooperation with us… Yes, please do that and inform me immediately. You may report it to the President of India himself. I don’t give a damn when I’m investigating something. Inform me first and then report my behavior to any highest authority you damn please. I won’t wait very much.”*

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl looked at me.

“The bloody scoundrel is covering up something now, I know. Imām Muħammad Ħasan was pouring explanations and apologies. That’s a sure sign. The bastard is so communal that he was trying to annoy even me with repeating the club’s dastardly name Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club more and more even unnecessarily to feel me humiliated myself. He was trying to impress me that the ever aggressive ever sullying Hindus and their ever horniest Musalmān Beauties have named the club such reprehensible.”

“I understand.” I said gravely, “That’s the reason the Pseudo Islamic Countries have named the club internationally deliberately. They want no Hindu Musalmīn itteħād, no Hindu Muslim Unity anywhere. This name is so humiliating to Musalmīn that even the utmost moderate Musalmīn feel most humiliated and start hating Hindus and their horniest Musalmān Beauties, who otherwise never bother even to give a damn thought to such undignified matters.”

“I think we are on the right track.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“The Western businesspersons are also donating these Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Clubs.”

“Sure, why not?” I commented dryly, “What the hell else we can expect from the persons who divided India when they were kicked out from there, by then Hindu Muslim Unity? Of course they are patronizing these Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Clubs internationally, providing them immense monetary support as well as legal support too.”

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl again turned to the phone.

“Yes, hello. Isn’t Shaguftah Rashīd one of your major shareholders?… Well, where can you find out?… Imām Muħammad Ħasan, are you sure about that?… Don’t threat me you rascal. Do you want me to arrest you?… Yes,…yes,…Call President of USA, Jacqueline Lincoln, herself, to support you and your dastardly named ‘thoroughly legal’ Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. She sleeps with Durgesh. Do you understand, impotent?… Go ahead. Try to harm me as much as your entire anti humanity machinery can ever do…Now listen you scoundrel, this is important.”

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl turned to me furiously.

“The impotent bastard is threatening me with the unconditional support of USA to Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club internationally.”

“Sure,” I said sharply, “why not? He wants you to arrest him so that they can make it an international issue. It would bring the name of the club internationally in headlines, disrupting Hindu Muslim Unity everywhere. Can’t you see? They are using the most ancient rotten policy of such immoral diplomats: ‘Divide and Rule’.”

“What should I do?”

“Don’t lose your mind. He is deliberately irritating you.”

“Yes, I think you are right.”

“Don’t arrest the impotent. He wants to get arrested. Try to act big hearted and ever forgiving.”

“I won’t.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said furiously, “I would never forgive the bastard.”

“Idiot, I’m not telling you to really forgive him. Play smarter since he is playing smart.”

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl had, as if, fallen from the seventh sky.

Her most beautiful eyes widened as my point dawned on her.

“You…you are right. He is deliberately annoying me.”

“Now you understand the game. Play it smarter. Threaten him as much as you want to. But never arrest him. Never forget his Abbū, Imām Muħammad Yåqūb, is a senator now in USA.”

“But…”

“You are responsible for law and order here in Ved Nagar. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, but…”

“Ved Nagar is now the International Capital of India practically. Isn’t it?”

It took a great effort to ACP Suraiyā Jamāl to control herself.

“I don’t want a run around.” She said in the phone, “All right, all right, you haven’t any idea… Now, wait a minute. Does Shaguftah Rashīd have a social security number?… I see… Now listen, I may want to get you again. Don’t leave Ved Nagar without informing me personally. SMS me your personal mobile number so that I can call you whenever I damn please… Your Senator Abbū in USA can be made incapable to protect you if needed, my child. Don’t try to annoy your Ammījān ACP Suraiyā Jamāl. You would regret it.”*

Chapter 21

——————————————————————————————————————

KĦĀTŪN-E-JANNAT: 18

Posted: April 16, 2012 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Durgesh, Feminism, HLMCIC, Kħadeejah Muħammad, Kħadījah Al Kubrah, Kħadījah Muħammad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Saiyadā Fātimah PhD, Shaguftah Rashīd, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Suraiyā Jamāl | 5 Comments

Kħātūn-e-Jannat

Chapter 18

Durgesh Kħadījah Muħammad

Durgesh ACP Suraiyā Jamāl

Disconnecting the mobile, I pushed back my chair.

I got to my feet.

I stood keeping Kħadījah Muħammad on her knees and elbows.

I also stood on my knees behind her still gorgeous, still amazingly glamorous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān bottom.

“This thing’s goofy, ludicrous, absurd, Kħadījah Muħammad, Mérī Jān.” I pushed my extremely hardened Uncut Hindu Lund into Kħadījah Muħammad’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot to the hilt, “I don’t think the police are going to do anything.”

Kħadījah Muħammad squeezed the entire length and thickness of my Uncut Hindu Cock contracting her vaginal muscles skillfully.

She enjoyed my Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt still now very much.

I loved her so much I didn’t love even my legal wife, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD.

I couldn’t help it.

Kħadījah Muħammad was hyper sexual herself as I was.

Saiyadah Fātimah PhD wanted least sex.

She loved and married me not for my sexual prowess.

Saiyadah Fātimah PhD loved and married me for my ‘exclusive unlimited humanity’ and my devotion to upraise the Muslimahs.

“You mean Muħammad Åbdullah…”

“No, no. He’ll certainly do his best. But his police…well, of course, they may find Shaguftah Rashīd in the voter’s register. Think back on that conversation. See if you can…”

“Wait a minute.” Kħadījah Muħammad abruptly said, “She was calling from Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club alright. I could hear the male voices talking of their Stavans, Ved and Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā. The female voices were referring to Allah Måshā Allah Subħān Allah every now and then. And there were the melodious sweet sounds of consummating sex.”

“Very good.”

Kħadījah Muħammad went on.

“I could hear the sound of an orchestra too. It… wait a minute now. Don’t fuck me so excitedly. Just push your Uncut Hindu Lund into my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot to the hilt and stop keeping it fully embedded there. No pulling out. Not even a bit. Let me concentrate, please.”

“Sālī,” I pushed my Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot as she requested and kept it there fully embedded to the hilt, “you Musalmān Beauties require my Uncut Hindu Lund fully embedded into your Musalmān Choot so that you may concentrate?”

Kħadījah Muħammad winked at me.

“That’s right, any objection?”

“Kħadījah Muħammad.”

“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan also concentrates in this way, doesn’t she?”

“She is crazy to imitate you.” I retorted, “You are her role model. Everything whatsoever you have done with me, she is also doing blindly.”

Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.

“I’m proud of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Durgesh. I love her.”

“Saiyadah Fātimah PhD too loves her, but…”

“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has done successfully what we both, your wife Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and I couldn’t do. That’s why we love her.”

“Yes, I do understand, but…”

“Yes, yes, let me concentrate. I remember hearing the background music too, I think. Please fuck me.”

“What?”

“Please fuck me wildly and let me concentrate.”

“Nonsense. If I fuck you wildly how can you concentrate?”

“You don’t know. You are not a woman. We women have different ways in so many things. Now fuck me you teaser.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t shout.”

“Wildly.”

“Wildly, Sālī, wildly.” I started fucking Kħadījah Muħammad wildly now.

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had smiled once in the similar situation.

“Kħadījah Muħammad Bājī uses you. As I do.”

“What?”

“These are the times when we can make you to fuck us as wildly as we damn please.”

“Shame on you.”

“Everything is fair in love and war, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!”

“Well?” I asked Kħadījah Muħammad fucking her wildly after about fifteen minutes.

“Please continue.”

“Sālī, you…”

“You want me to concentrate, don’t you?”

“Kħadījah Muħammad, I’ll fuck you wildly till we exist, darling. But now it’s a matter of life and death for Shaguftah Rashīd.”

“Yes, you are right. But don’t forget your promise, will you?”

“Never.”

“To fuck me wildly till…”

“Yes, yes, now come on.”

“I remember the background music now. It was playing ‘Khai ké paan Banāras wālā’.”

“Very good. Now we have only to find out where the hell in Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club this background music ‘Khai ké paan Banāras wālā’ has been played recently tonight. I love you, Kħadījah Muħammad. That’s great.”

“Don’t tell me verbally that you love me, put into action, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! Your Uncut Hindu Lund is already visiting my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot. Isn’t it?”*

I smiled and started obliging Kħadījah Muħammad.

“I think I can find out.” She smiled at me thankfully.

She started to use her mobile.

After some connections and disconnections she winked at me.

“Got it, Durgesh darling.”

“Her address?”

“I think we can get it.”

“What is it?”

“Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Ved Nagar has played ‘Khai ké paan Banāras wālā’. I connected to the club and asked if they knew a Shaguftah Rashīd. The hat check girl said she did. She said that Shaguftah Rashīd had been there this evening, but she had left early. She said she had a headache. I asked how we could find Shaguftah Rashīd’s address. She said she didn’t know. Yet, she thought one of the proprietors, Iqbāl Rashīd, knew where she lived.”

“Iqbāl Rashīd?”

“Iqbāl Rashīd.”

“Any relationship with Shaguftah Rashīd?” I asked enthusiastically.

“I asked the hat check girl, but she didn’t know. Iqbāl Rashīd is out tonight, and couldn’t be reached.”

“Damn. You told her it was important?”

“Sure. I told her it was a matter of life and death.”

“Okay.”

I used my mobile to contact Commissioner of Police, Muħammad Åbdullah, again.

He was in the bathroom.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was authorized to handle Muħammad Åbdullah’s mobile in such events.

“Hello, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, Durgesh here.” I said on the mobile gravely.

“Your name is flashing already on the screen. Want to fuck me now?”

“ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, I’ve told you I was requested by your own husband Muħammad Ålī.”

“I thought he could have requested once more to you to fuck his wife, rather his Ammījān now.”

“Give the mobile to Muħammad Åbdullah, your Chief.”

“He is in the bathroom.”

“I can’t wait.”

“I can reach you as early as possible.”

“ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, I called the Commissioner of Police, Muħammad Åbdullah.”

“He is temporary unavailable. This is ACP Suraiyā Jamāl. Can I do anything for you? And I mean anything.”

I controlled myself.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was married to Muħammad Ålī when she wasn’t ACP.

However, she was an IPS even then, waiting for her first assignment as a police officer.

“ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, it’s a matter of life and death.” I said curtly.

This time her voice became crisply businesslike.

“Okay. What is it?”

“I had a legal appointment with a Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah for one o’clock. I was waiting for her. In the meantime I received a call from some Shaguftah Rashīd I knew only by her name. I doubt even that name, Shaguftah Rashīd, maybe fictitious. Yet she rang up. She could barely talk over the mobile. She said she’d been poisoned. Someone had sent her poisoned candy. She certainly sounded about ready to pass out. Evidently the receiver either slipped from her hands and fell, or she keeled over while she was talking to me. Then the receiver was hung up before I could trace the call.”

“You haven’t fucked her ever?”

“Nonsense.”

“You fucked me faithfully being immensely loyal to your stepson that immediately accepted me his Ammījān.”

“Not immediately, Sālī, after two years.” I said curtly.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl controlled herself.

“You don’t know where she is?”

I held Kħadījah Muħammad’s slim waist with both my hands and kept fucking her wildly as she wanted.

“I’m coming to that.” I said on the mobile, “Kħadījah Muħammad did some fast thinking and some good detective work. I won’t take time to tell you about it unnecessarily. Yet the result is that Kħadījah Muħammad got a lead to the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club in Ved Nagar. A Shaguftah Rashīd is known there. She was there in the evening. But apparently the underlings don’t know her address. An Iqbāl Rashīd runs the place, but he’s out. That’s the story in a nutshell. What do you say, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl?”

“Sounds like quite a bit of smoke.” The efficient police officer in ACP Suraiyā Jamāl prevailed on the woman inside her, “There may be some fire. But we haven’t a heck of a lot to go on.”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t tell the police.” I said curtly, “I’m not the police. I’m only a citizen. I’ve informed the police. Commissioner of police as far as I’m concerned. If someone finds Shaguftah Rashīd’s body tomorrow morning, and…”

“Wait a minute.” Again the efficient police officer in ACP Suraiyā Jamāl prevailed on the woman inside her, “Hold your Uncut Hindu Lund. Where are you now?”

Her protest against I fucked her was behind her new phrase ‘Hold your Uncut Hindu Lund’ instead of ‘Hold your horses’.

She used it to register her complaint whenever she talked with me.

“With Kħadījah Muħammad.” I replied.

“Want to take a run around to the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club in Ved Nagar?”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be for you in about five minutes.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said, “Keep your Uncut Hindu Lund ready for me once more. Tell Kħadījah Muħammad you are going to fuck your daughter in law ACP Suraiyā Jamāl for the rest of the night. If you can be waiting down on the sidewalk, it’ll save that much time.”

“Suraiyā,”

“Yes my dear Hindu father in law I love to fuck, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!”

“Think we can do anything by phone?”

“I doubt it, Prāñnāth. I’m grateful that you recommended your stepson Muħammad Ålī for the proprietorship of this Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club in Ved Nagar. Yet, it won’t take over a few minutes to get there. Be all ready to jump in when you hear the siren. I’ll cut her loose.”

“Dil bhāvé par sar hilāvé, Sālī, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl, your pseudo complaint is registered. I’ll be down there.”

I disconnected the mobile and holding Kħadījah Muħammad’s nude slim waist pushed my Uncut Hindu Lund deepest.

Kħadījah Muħammad herself pushed her glorious glamorous gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī big firm round Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my Hindu loins to receive my Uncut Hindu Lund as deepest as possible.

I blasted my Hindu Vīrý.

Kħadījah Muħammad was now the Ammī of my five brilliant Hindu sons.

Yet, she was still as young and as beautiful as she was when she first raped me.

They suspected Kħadījah Muħammad herself was a Parahuman, Ummil Mominīn Ħazrat Kħadījah Al Kubrā^rza.

Kħadījah Muħammad closed her eyes in extreme ecstasy.

She was receiving my Hindu Vīrý once more deepest inside her as she always greeted it.

Dressing myself hastily I said,

“Okay, Ummil Mominīn, hold the fort. I may call you in a little later.”

“Watch out ACP Suraiyā Jamāl. She may eat you uncooked. You made enemy of an efficient police officer by granting the request of your stepson Muħammad Ålī.”

I smiled.

“Muħammad Ålī’s entire family had conspired it against her. He wasn’t alone.”*

I had scolded Muħammad Ålī.

“You must have told me that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had promised you the proprietorship of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club in Ved Nagar if you make me rape your wife Suraiyā Jamāl.”

“Papa Jī, what do you think, she married me for myself?” Muħammad Ålī complained.

I was as if fallen from the seventh sky.

“It was her own game.” Muħammad Ålī charged his wife, “She was an IPS. She wasn’t a damn fool. Neither she was physically incompetent to protect herself from you when you raped her, if she didn’t want it.”

“You may be right there.” I murmured thoughtfully.*

It took a minute or two for the elevator to get up to the floor I was with Kħadījah Muħammad.

It was my Durgesh Kħadījah Muħammad Antarvyom, interspace, of infinitely spread Param Purush Ummahāt-Al-Åālmīn Param Prāsād.

It wasn’t easy to understand its construction and functions for the persons who aren’t Parahumans or Posthumans at least.

It was an extremely complex theory of Metaphysics it was built on.

We called it Eīshān Vigyān.

The night watchman dropped me to the street level.

I had less than a minute to wait at the curb before I heard the scream of a siren.

I saw the blood red glare of a spotlight, and then ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was skidding a police Mercedes in close to the curb.

I jerked the door open and jumped in.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl immediately shifted herself from her driving seat to my lap.

I hadn’t another option except to shift to the driving seat myself.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl kissed me on my lips and accelerated the police Mercedes into such swift speed that if I wasn’t prepared for it, my head had certainly jerked back as the machine lurched forward.

“Fuck me.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl whispered.

“What?”

“Open my belt, undress me below my waist and fuck me if you really want me to help you in keeping alive your so called Shaguftah Rashīd.”

I hadn’t another option once again.

Even enjoying sex with me, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl concentrated on driving traffic.

After, Muħammad Ålī told her that she wasn’t his wife anymore, his Ammījān instead, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl started to sleep with me openly, with her mother in law on my one side and she herself on my other side.

I knew then first how hyper sexual ACP Suraiyā Jamāl herself was.

I understood very well why Muħammad Ålī couldn’t satisfy her.

She wasn’t made for the softies in sex like Muħammad Ålī.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl needed wild animal sex that perhaps only I could provide her.

Concentrating on driving, she bent forward in rukū’.

Even then her buttocks were more active in back and forth motion than my own waist was.

It was absolutely obvious that ACP Suraiyā Jamāl needed my Uncut Hindu Lund in her Meccan Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot ravenously.

She had taken benefit of my interest in Shaguftah Rashīd.

The police Mercedes screamed through the streets nonstop.

“Hang on.” She warned me as the police Mercedes screamed in a turn.

I pushed my Uncut Hindu Lund in her Meccan Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot to my balls and held her waist strongly to adjust with her driving.

I saw, she was enjoying both the excitement of my Uncut Hindu Lund tearing her Meccan Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and the excitement of tearing through traffic with siren screaming and motor roaring.

Yet, with it all, the young lady ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was as cool and detached as a surgeon performing a delicate operation.

Her extremely beautiful Meccan Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face showed complete concentration and an entire lack of nervousness.

She slid to a stop in front of the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club in Ved Nagar.

We dressed ourselves competently, debouched from the police Mercedes and marched across the sidewalk.

“You are an excellent driver.” I smiled.

“Thank you and you are an excellent Hindu fucker of us Musalmān Beauties.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl also smiled.

“Thanks.” I squeezed her buttocks.

She squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund to show her gratefulness and appreciation.

A big Paŧhān doorman, resplendent with uniform, saluted us.

I was known to him and ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was a Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauty despite her police uniform of ACP.

The Paŧhān doorman dashed for a speaking tube built into the wall.

He whistled three times sharply.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl led the way into the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club.

“The hat-check girl, Suraiyā,” I said, “She knows something.”

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl nodded and moved to the counter.

She showed her identity card and stars to the hat check girl.

“Shaguftah Rashīd. Where can we find her?”

The hat check girl smiled watching ACP Suraiyā Jamāl playing with my Uncut Hindu Lund.

It showed it was alright.

“Sorry, ma’am. I don’t know. Someone was asking over the phone awhile back.”

“You know her?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Does she work here?”

“She doesn’t need to. She is a major shareholder here. She is one of the proprietors, I must say.”

“Beautiful?”

“Extremely, ma’am.”

“Interested in any particular Uncut Hindu Lund or any Uncut Hindu Lund would do?”

“Exclusively interested in only the Uncut Hindu Lund you are playing with.” The hat check girl smiled.

“One Man Woman?”

“I think so.”

“How many shares she holds here?”

“I wouldn’t know, ma’am, sorry.”

“Who would?”

“Imām Muħammad Ħasan or Mr. Muħammad Ålī.”

“Imām Muħammad Ħasan is also a shareholder?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled.

“A major shareholder ma’am.” The hat check girl also smiled.

“In Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club?” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled ironically.

“Well, they think it a good business.”

“Yes, I see that. Where are they?”

“Mr. Muħammad Ålī is out tonight. And I don’t know where Imām Muħammad Ħasan is. I tried to locate him after the young woman phoned, but I couldn’t find him.”

“This place is supposed to run without anyone in charge?”

“Ordinarily, one or the other of them is here. Tonight it just happens they both are out.”

“Who else would know? The cashier? Some of the waitresses?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t think so. I’ve made inquiries. I tell you who I think would.”

“Who?”

“Iqbāl Rashīd.”

“Who is he?”

“Her younger brother.”

“Living with her?”

The hat check girl cum receptionist looked at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.

“I don’t know, ma’am.”

“Where do we find Iqbāl Rashīd?”

“I think the cashier has his address. Iqbāl Rashīd cashes a check here once in a while.”

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl watched her gravely.

“Thanks. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, sister, as well as a pretty one. Come on hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam.”

We skirted the dance floor, and pushed past the crowded couples moving slowly to the rhythm of the music.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl asked the directions from a waitress.

Now we were walking on to the cashier.

The cashier was in a cage between the dining room and the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club.

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl showed her her identity card and stars.

“You know an Iqbāl Rashīd?”

The cashier stared at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.

She hesitated somewhat.

It was quite obvious that she was debating on a course of action.

“Come on.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said curtly, “You are alive, aren’t you? Do you know him or not?”

The cashier controlled herself.

“Sorry for the delay in replying, ma’am. Yes, I know Dr. Iqbāl Rashīd.”

“Dr. Iqbāl Rashīd?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Where can we find him?”

“May I ask what he has done, ma’am?”

“You may not. It’s a police business. We seek informations, don’t give them to others.”

“Sorry, ma’am. I don’t know where he is at present.”

“Give me his address.”

“Bājīrāo Mastānī Apartments.”

“I see. Which one?”

“Just a minute.”

She searched in her computer.

“It’s on the second floor, Bājīrāo Mastānī Apartments, 256.”

“His phone number?”

“Not recorded here.”

“You know Iqbāl Rashīd when you see him?”

“Of course.”

“He hasn’t been here tonight?”

“No.”

“Would you have seen him if he had been?”

“Yes, ma’am. Of course.”

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl looked at me.

“I think we should try Iqbāl Rashīd at Bājīrāo Mastānī Apartments.”

Then she turned to the cashier once again.

“Who’s running this place?”

“Imām Muħammad Ħasan and Muħammad Ålī.”

“Partners?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Who is the major partner?”

“Imām Muħammad Ħasan. He isn’t here at present but he is expected to be here any minute.”

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl didn’t tell the cashier that Muħammad Ålī was her husband that had requested me to rape his wife, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.

And why should she have?

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl was there with me to get the informations not to give instead.

“Mr. Muħammad Ålī has a little cabin somewhere.” The cashier volunteered, “He goes there for relaxation.”

ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled.

“Relaxation, eh? Where is it?”

“I wouldn’t know. It’s up in Green Canyon somewhere.”

“When Imām Muħammad Ħasan comes in, let him call police headquarters and ask for Inspector Prabhāt Deharia. Have him tell Inspector Prabhāt Deharia all he knows about Shaguftah Rashīd and her younger brother, Iqbāl Rashīd. Don’t forget. I’ll call back in a little while. What number do I call?”

The cashier gave her the number duly written in a slip.

“Thank you.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled at the cashier, “okay, I’ll call you back. Have Imām Muħammad Ħasan call headquarters.”

As we talked out I smiled at ACP Suraiyā Jamāl.

“It’s always a pleasure seeing an efficient police officer at work.”

“Thank you.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl also smiled, “We have to handle them in this way. Otherwise they’ll start swapping gossip with us. And we’ll get nowhere. People seem to forget we have emergency calls pouring in in a steady stream. We haven’t time to dillydally, or let other people take the lead. We have to keep them on the defensive to get anywhere ever.”

“I understand.” I smiled.

We squeezed past the dance floor.

In the elevator leading to the sidewalk, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said.

“Know anything about this Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Durgesh?”

“Not the police version exactly.” I smiled, “What’s it?”

“The queerest name of the club suggests that some communal Hindus and horniest Musalmān Beauties must be behind it. Doesn’t it?”

“Yes?”

“That’s not the truth at all.”

“No?”

“Never.”

“These organizations are actually run by Pseudo Islamic countries. They have calculatingly adopted this humiliating name to Musalmīn for the club, to defame the Hindus and their horniest Musalmān beloveds.”

“I see. So, the police also know the conspiracy behind it?”

“Well, the police were not born yesterday.” ACP Suraiyā Jamāl smiled cunningly.

I smiled too.

“What do you think the Pseudo Islamic countries don’t know that the police are aware of their conspiracy?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then why they are still retaining this name for the club?”

“The people in general don’t understand these political conspiracies. They are still being fooled by Saůūdī Årab and Iran.”

I smiled.

“India was the eighth most powerful country not many days before. Neither Saůūdī Årab nor Iran was anywhere in power in the suburb of India. China was second and USA was the number one. Yet, HVSI marched ahead aggressively and now HVSI is the most powerful organization on the entire globe.”

“What do you want to say, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam?”

“Both Saůūdī Årab and Iran are checkmated.” I smiled, “And they are not even aware of it. They are still conspiring against each other imprudently.”

Chapter 19

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KĦĀTŪN-E-JANNAT: 16

Posted: April 5, 2012 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Ashvinatam, Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Mujāhidah Al Islam, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Bilqīs Siddīqī, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar, Durgesh, Feminism, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Times, Kħālidah Ashraf, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Muħammad Åbdullah, Muħammad Ůsmān, Navīdah Taqaddus, Nāsirah Ħamīd, Prajésh, Prajésh M. Satyarthi, Prajésh/Wasīm, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī, Shaguftah Rashīd, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex, Wasīm, Wasīm Kħālidah Ashraf, Waħīdah Åbbās | 2 Comments

Kħātūn-e-Jannat

Chapter 16

Durgesh Al Mujāhidah Al Islam

Durgesh Bilqīs Siddīqī

Durgesh Waħīdah Åbbās

Despite severe protests from, my Live in Relationship Partner, ultimately, Al Mujāhidah Al Islam was married to the young man she decided to.

Her Ammī, Navīdah Taqaddus, wanted her daughter to accept her Live in Relationship too with me.

“Durgesh is fit for you JetMusalmān Beauties too, Al Mujāhidah Al Islam.” Navīdah Taqaddus had beamed, “Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has proved it now.”

Al Mujāhidah Al Islam was not habitual of watching her extremely beautiful Ammī, Navīdah Taqaddus nude, being fucked by me.

She was feeling abnormal.

“Ammī, you shouldn’t have called me here while you are enjoying your Live in Relationship with Durgesh.”

Navīdah Taqaddus smiled cunningly.

“It’s alright, honey. You are an adult now yourself.”

“So what?”

“So you can understand very well, we all the womankind need it. It’s natural and even necessary for the survival of our human race.”

“Ammī, I didn’t want to see you about our human race. I wanted to see you about my real Abbū’s will.”

“I know, honey.” Navīdah Taqaddus smiled patiently.

She was nude on her knees.

I too was nude and I was fucking Navīdah Taqaddus from her behind.

Navīdah Taqaddus and I both loved very much that her gorgeous glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks filled my Hindu lap each time I thrust my Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.

Navīdah Taqaddus’s ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot gripped my Uncut Hindu Lund so greedily and so ravenously that I enjoyed it very much.

Navīdah Taqaddus was not Al Mujāhidah Al Islam’s real Ammī.

Al Mujāhidah Al Islam’s real Ammī was Nāsirah Ħamīd.*

Nāsirah Ħamīd remembered the first TV transmissions.

Enjoying my Uncut Hindu Lund in her smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, Nāsirah Ħamīd had replayed them so many times.

Nāsirah Ħamīd was not interested in Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Times.

At least not to the extent Dr. Saåīdah Qamar and Al Mujāhidah Al Islam were.

She remembered how desperately Dr. Saåīdah Qamar and Al Mujāhidah Al Islam fought for the control of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Times.

Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī had exerted his entire efforts in raising the newspaper.

They called it HLMCh Times on the line of HVSI Times.

Nāsirah Ħamīd was there when Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was sucking my Uncut Hindu Lund to win me on his side.

After all, I was the Supreme Media Emperor today.

HVSI controlled the entire media today virtually due to my extraordinary watchfulness.

For Nāsirah Ħamīd it didn’t make any difference whether Dr. Saåīdah Qamar owned Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Times or Al Mujāhidah Al Islam.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar was her best friend and Al Mujāhidah Al Islam was her own daughter.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar grinned sucking my Uncut Hindu Penis passionately:

“You mean formally, like in those movies where relatives get together in a room to hear the old man’s will?”

I squeezed Dr. Saåīdah Qamar’s gorgeous Musalmān buttocks.

“Sālī, it isn’t a will. It’s a Settlement Deed. I said it’s a short testament. As far as the wills are concerned, Hearst’s will was 125 pages long. Our Settlement Deed is only 37 pages. Relatively short for so complex an estate.”

I’d undressed Dr. Saåīdah Qamar completely in the meantime.

She was a startling, a dazzling Musalmān Beauty.

It was the first time I was going to enjoy her to my heart’s content.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar had undressed me too herself.

We both were crazy to enjoy sex with each other.

“Just give me the essence.” She said, “I’ll read the whole Settlement Deed when I have more time. You can give me a copy. Right now the essence. Did we get all of it as we demanded, or most of it?”

“He left you four the bulk of his estate.” I smiled.

“Along with your Uncut Hindu Lund?” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar winked at me.

I positioned her on her knees and entered Dr. Saåīdah Qamar first time from her gorgeous behind.

Eīshān, what a contention!

I felt myself entering in heaven as my Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated Dr. Saåīdah Qamar’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.

Ahh!

One inch.

Two inch.

Three inch.

We both were enjoying the penetration.

Six inches.

Ten inches completely.

My Uncut Hindu Lund entirely vanished into her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.

Her utmost soft Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān buttocks had filled my nude Hindu lap fully.

We both had closed our eyes.

We both wanted to savor this moment.

My Uncut Hindu Lund had entered her Musalmān Choot deepest.*

Wasīm looked at me.

“Dad, I never wanted to talk with you in the matter.”

“No problem,” I smiled, “Al Nåmat Al Islam herself came to me.”

Wasīm looked at me,

“I’ve forgotten Al Nåmat Al Islam. The very moment I saw you making love with her, I knew she wasn’t made for me.”

“Wasīm, find an appropriate girl for yourself and take interest in Business.”

“I’m doing, Papa Jī. But not in the way you are.”

“Have your own way, my child.”

“You don’t want your sons to help you?”

“I’ve countless sons, Wasīm. I’ve countless Live in Relationship Partners too. There are countless friends too I have. If some of my sons don’t want to join me in my business, I can afford their independence.”

“I can see. Why didn’t you allow Ammījān the same independence, Papa Jī?”

I digested the information.

Wasīm was not talking about now that Pandit Rām Nārāyañ Shukl was his real father.

His Ammī Kħālidah Ashraf left Pandit Rām Nārāyañ Shukl not because he was a softie Congressman, because Kħālidah Ashraf had lied to his only son.

Wasīm was actually my son and Kħālidah Ashraf refused to Live in Relationship with me.

She named my son, Prajésh, Wasīm, in protest.

Pandit Rām Nārāyañ Shukl and Kħālidah Ashraf were never husband and wife.

They were only legally so.

I watched Wasīm gravely.

“How much you know, son?”

“Only what I have been told, Papa Jī. I ask you why I couldn’t enjoy my father’s love.”

“Your Ammī didn’t allow me to do anything for you Prajésh.”

Wasīm looked at me gravely.

“My name is Wasīm and I am a Musalmān.”

“Pseudo Musalmān, you mean?”

“No, I don’t believe in Årab Imperialism. I believe in true Islam and true Islam only.”

I smiled.

“That’s better. So you offer Taħannus as well as Assalāt every day?”

“My stepfather Pandit Rām Nārāyañ Shukl said it isn’t necessary. Ammījān also confirmed it.”

“Look, Prajésh,…”

“Call me Wasīm, please.”

“You love the name given to you by your Ammī, more?” I smiled patiently.

“That’s the only name I’ve been called with now.”

“Your Ammī told you that I’m your real father?”

“She didn’t. But I know.”

“How?”

“Papa Jī, is it so important?”

“Okay, if you don’t want to tell me that, it’s alright with me.” I smiled at Prajésh patiently.

“You allowed my Ammī to detriment my life.”

“Who says?”

“Pandit Rām Nārāyañ Shukl uncle. And my other friends also do it.”

“As soon as you knew that your Ammī hadn’t any actual marital relationship with Pandit Rām Nārāyañ Shukl , I am your real father, why didn’t you come to me Prajésh?”

“I was angry with you. You left me on the mercy of my not so brilliant Ammī and uncle Pandit Rām Nārāyañ Shukl that loved my Ammī, but my Ammī never did love him the way he wanted. Yet you allowed Ammī to marry him, even if legally. Didn’t you?”

“You are right my son. And I’m not angry that you were angry with me.”

“Papa Jī.”

“I can understand. You were angry with me because you wanted me to fight with your Ammī for your possession.”

“Shouldn’t you have?”

“No. You needed your Ammī more then. A father, however efficient he is, can’t replace a mother ever. Only because your Ammī was acting childish, I couldn’t punish you separating you from your Ammī.”

Prajésh’s eyes were suddenly full of tears.

“I’m sorry Papa Jī. You can call me Prajésh.”

I pulled my son into my arms.

He embraced me passionately.

“I’m sorry Papa Jī. I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense. You are my son. You don’t need to be sorry my boy. Rather I’m sorry that I couldn’t control your Ammī to the extent that you hadn’t missed my love.”*

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled at me.

“I’m elder than you, Fātimah. Yet you understood Muħammad Ůsmān better than I did. Sorry. Before his desperate attempt to stage an accident itself, I could never understand what a devil my Musalmān husband, Muħammad Ůsmān, was.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled ironically.

“His parents named him Muħammad Ůsmān, after the great name of Kħalīfatul Musalmīn Ħazrat Ůsmān Ghanī^rzu. Did they know their son would be a blot to the name of Kħalīfatul Musalmīn Ħazrat Ůsmān Ghanī^rzu?”

“Poor parents dream about their children and the children never care a damn what their parents had dreamt of them.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at her elder sister.

“It’s alright. Let’s not talk about that now. We’ll get along all right.”

“I don’t think he wouldn’t attempt something detrimental to us.”

“I understand. I’ll go down and try to find out how detrimental he can prove to be to us. Leave the bastard to me. You take it easy.”

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah watched Fātimah through the door.

Then she picked up the book she was reading:

‘Årab Mahā Bhārat’.

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah gently closed the door and walked quietly down the stairs.

Muħammad Ůsmān folded the newspaper.

The pencil was no longer behind his ear.

“Drink, my lady, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånhā?”

“No, thanks.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah sat down on the sofa chair opposite Muħammad Ůsmān.

She accepted one of his cigarettes, leaned forward for his lighter, sat back and looked at Muħammad Ůsmān steadily.

“Muħammad Ůsmān, don’t you think it might be a good plan if we all three sat down and had business chat?”

Muħammad Ůsmān raised his eyebrow.

“What about Bilqīs Siddīqī and Waħīdah Åbbās?”

“I’d manage both of them.”

“Anything wrong?”

“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was in tonight.”

“I see. The Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånhā original?” Muħammad Ůsmān smirked, “What does our great lady want?”

“She wants to buy the business― a controlling interest in it.”

“She doesn’t. HVSI actually.”

“HVSI doesn’t need to enter in our business through Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. Durgesh already has the controlling interest. HVSI itself has its entire assets in the name of Durgesh.”

“Then?”

“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has her own movements Durgesh doesn’t approve of― ‘Cuckold Your Musalmān husband’, ‘Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh’, ‘Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club’, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club’. She is the new President of Saůūdī Årab now. I think she is also working on the same plan HVSI is working.”

“Impossible, my lady. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan can’t have any conflict of interest with Durgesh or HVSI.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah looked at Muħammad Ůsmān bitterly.

“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is overconfident. She thinks she can manage her movements through JetMusalmān BeautiesSquad so as to HVSI would play in her hands as Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī did in Everfirst Satyug, Everfirst Brāhm Kalp.”

Muħammad Ůsmān jumped almost as if.

“Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī?”

“Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī.”

“You mean Hindu History is true?”

“It seems to be so.”

“Nonsense.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah blasted her bombshell patiently.

“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is a stockholder now.”

“A stockholder!” Muħammad Ůsmān exclaimed.

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah saw swift alarm on his face.

Then he hastily averted his eyes.

“Why, how the devil could she―”

“Nafīsah Salmān Ammī. I think Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan managed her somehow to turn over the stock. I should have picked up that stock before Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan could have it. Damn, I’d entirely forgotten about it. It’s such a small block―”

Muħammad Ůsmān seemed positively relieved.

He laughed.

“What Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan can do with that? It’s only five shares. That’s a drop in the bucket. Moreover we have Durgesh with us. However shrewdest businesswoman Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan maybe, she isn’t Durgesh after all. Durgesh has broken all the previous records of money, love, sex and power. He is the most successful man now. HVSI is the most successful ideological family organization that doesn’t have born Hindus only in it now. So many Musalmīn, Christians, Jews and even atheists are also in it.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah shook her head.

“Durgesh is with us. Yes, but even then Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan won’t be pushed around. She wants something. I can’t ignore her. Being a stockholder Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is entitled to look in our books. Perhaps that’s what she wants. I don’t know. I’m going to talk with Durgesh about it.”

“Durgesh? He is with us, but he isn’t specialized in such cases. He is murder case specialist. Isn’t he?”

“Well, it’s his own shop in a way. This needs someone who can do more than just look in a law book and tell us what the law is. It needs someone who understands Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan as well. It needs a lot of legal ingenuity.”

“Well, Durgesh is the man all right to handle Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. But I still think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah watched him sternly.

“I thought it would be a good plan to take up all of the stock certificates and the stock book. Durgesh can want to see them.”

Muħammad Ůsmān laughed.

“Oh, you don’t need to do that.”

“Why?”

“It isn’t necessary.”

“Nevertheless, I want to have them with me when I discuss them with Durgesh.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah watched Muħammad Ůsmān sharply, “Is there anything why shouldn’t I?”

“Well, “ Muħammad Ůsmān smiled, “I’ve got an important appointment in the morning. That stock is in the safety deposit box.”

“Sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“The stock is really in the safety deposit box?”

“My lady you are insulting me.”

“That’s right.”

“Fātimah.”

“Yet, this insult is not even the trailer what you’d have to face if you’ve done something sinister.”

“I am not so mad.”

“You are, Kħalīfatul Musalmīn, you are.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled sweetly, somewhat exaggerating it, “I’m telling you so that you can’t complain me that I didn’t warn you. I want to see that stock now myself with my own eyes. I wasn’t born yesterday, Muħammad Ůsmān.”

Muħammad Ůsmān was white faced now.

“I’m sorry that you are always against me due to this or that reason. I have an important appointment I say. I can take it to Durgesh later on. My appointment is with an insurance company adjuster. If I cancel it it’d be hard to get him again. I’ve already had a lot of trouble getting him on the job.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I know. What do you think I’m dumb enough not to understand even that?”

“What was the accident anyway?” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled unsympathetically, “You never told me anything about it. I learnt of it from Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah Bājī.”

“You won’t believe me as you say, but it was one of those cases where some guy comes down the street, crocked to the eyebrows. I wasn’t even in the car. I had it parked at the curb. I don’t know how in the world how he managed to smash it up the way he did. He must have skidded into it from the side.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed.

“You can’t make even a good story, Muħammad Ůsmān.”

“I know you don’t believe me. That’s why you both brought Durgesh between us and cuckolded me. Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, you Musalmān Beauties love Hindus to the extent that you never give us Musalmīn even the benefit of doubt.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah cooed.

“We Musalmān Beauties never have any doubt whatsoever, my dear, in you Musalmīn’s criminal skills. You Musalmīn out excel in it everyone. You hate ultramodern education childishly. Consequently most of you Musalmīn are uneducated/under educated. What job can you get therefore except pertaining to some criminal activities? So, since there isn’t any doubt whatsoever why there’d be any benefit of doubt?”

“I can’t make you to act sane somewhat.”

“Did you get the number of his automobile who skidded into yours from the side you say?” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled skeptically.

“Unfortunately not.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed.

“I say I wasn’t there.” Muħammad Ůsmān watched her contemptuously, “The car was parked. A couple of people saw it and told me about it. Unfortunately they were too dumb to get his license number.”

“Nonsense. I am not too dumb to believe that. Well, would you get down to the safety deposit box and―”

“I’m sorry. That’s absolutely impossible. You won’t believe me I know. Yet, I have two or three appointments in the morning. I just can’t cancel them now. But if Durgesh needs the stock, I’ll bring it in later.”

“Listen to me you stupid.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah suddenly said harshly, “I don’t think you have the stock anymore and Vallah, I promise you that you’d regret it. Muħammad Ůsmān, I won’t kill you because I’m not a criminal as you are. But if my suspicion is true, you’d find yourself in such a legal dilemma, you’d regret forever why you betrayed us.”

Muħammad Ůsmān was dumbfounded.

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah stalked to the door, out in the evening.*

Prajésh watched his ardent Musalmān Ammī, Kħālidah Ashraf with anxious eyes.

He has successfully managed to bring her into her Live in Relationship with me but she still had complaints against me.

“Ammī, Papa Jī was right.” Prajésh/Wasīm tried once more to explain my actions to Kħālidah Ashraf.

“Shut up, Wasīm.” Kħālidah Ashraf tried to stand up from my lap, but I pulled her there once again.

Kħālidah Ashraf fidgeted but she was glad in her heart that I had pulled her back to my lap.

What a damnfool she was.

Only because Durgesh didn’t marry her she was angry with her only love.

Now she understands it was her blunder.

It was better that Wasīm didn’t hear her.

Otherwise his entire life would have been destroyed too.

Pandit Rām Nārāyañ Shukl proposed her and she married him only to punish Durgesh.

Durgesh tried to explain to her why he couldn’t marry her, why he had to marry Saiyadah Fātimah PhD.

But Kħālidah Ashraf was too angry to listen to him.

She smiled to herself.

Durgesh really love her.

Why otherwise did he warn Pandit Rām Nārāyañ Shukl ?

“Pandit Rām Nārāyañ Shukl , she is a damnfool.”

Pandit Rām Nārāyañ Shukl smiled.

“Because she isn’t marrying you? Durgesh, they call you Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! But it doesn’t mean you are really Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties. You want to keep her as one more out of your countless Musalmān mistresses. Kħālidah Ashraf is a young Musalmān lady of self-respect. She refused your offer.”

“You are yourself a damnfool, Pandit Rām Nārāyañ Shukl .” I smiled, “You don’t love Kħālidah Ashraf.”

“How do you know?” Pandit Rām Nārāyañ Shukl chuckled.

“Your Dīdī Umā Shukl told me so.”

“Dīdī wants to please you. She loves you.”

“Umā is my wife.”

“Your one more Brāhmañ Live in Relationship Partner. Not wife.”

“Idiot, my every Live in Relationship Partner is actually my wife. You Congressmen have played in the hands of utmost communal Mullahs and Maulavīs.”*

I kissed Kħadījah Muħammad.

“No need for you to wait, Kħadījah. That brief took less time than I thought it would. I’ll sit around and read the advance decisions until one.”

“Keep on fucking me, please.” Kħadījah Muħammad pleaded, “I need you inside there very much.”

I smiled.

“Kħadījah, you need sleep too, my darling.”

“You promised me you’d never refuse to fulfill my any desire because I sacrificed my position to Saiyadah Fātimah PhD to please Pitr’shrī.”

“Okay, okay.”

“I want to wait.”

“There’s nothing you can do, darling. I’ll talk with her and…”

“No.” Kħadījah Muħammad interrupted, “I want to meet her myself. She charged me I’m favoring Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan beyond all limits. I want to―”

“Nonsense. You know Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan sometimes break every limit. She is Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī.”

“Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånhā.”

“One and the same thing.” I smiled in my casual manner.

Kħadījah Muħammad smiled too.

She knew how deceptive my casual manner was to the witnesses.

Many a witness was misled by my casual manner.

They fabricated a story on the witness stand with every assurance that their prevarications were completely concealed.

But when they were enjoying their ‘victory’ on me, they suddenly found themselves facing a pair of granite hard black eyes, and realized only too late of course, the savage belligerency I could bear down with, on a perjurer, the rapier-like thrusts of my agile mind.

But, for the most part, it pleased me to assume a good-natured, easy going attitude of careless informality.

I liked the conventional ways of doing things only if they produced better results.

Kħadījah Muħammad was not my personal secretary.

She was my business partner as well as one of my infinite Live in Relationship Partners.

Normally we were suspected to be Parahumans.

Yet, not all of us.

My comparatively new Live in Relationship Partners were not Parahuman.

Yet, due to their sexual relations with me, they were also on the pathway of being Parahuman.

They were Posthuman already.

After my Svarūpé avasthānam, self-synchronization, my foes were more afraid of me now.

Yet, still there were some miscreants who hated me very much when I protected some innocents from their insincere cruel activities.

Kħadījah Muħammad had that rare companionship with me that was the outgrowth of two congenial people devoting themselves to a common cause.

In her ever efficient leadership, my entire Live in Relationship Partners with me, were always able to function with the perfect co-ordination of a well-trained football team, whenever the going got rough.

Yet, it was very rare that the going got rough.

We were too vigilant to let it happen.

The telephone rang.

It was the landline.

Kħadījah Muħammad picked up the receiver.

“Hello, yes, it’s Kħadījah Muħammad his Live in Relationship Partner. Can’t you speak more clearly? Who is it? What’s that name? Shaguftah Rashīd?”

Kħadījah Muħammad turned to me.

She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece.

“Durgesh, she is drunk.”

“Shaguftah Rashīd?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Let me talk with her anyway.”

“You are fucking drunken Musalmān Beauties nowadays?”

“Nonsense. You know me better, stupid.”

Kħadījah Muħammad handed me the phone.

“Hello, it’s Durgesh, What’s it Shaguftah Rashīd?”

The voice that came on the receiver was so thick that I could understand it with difficulty what Shaguftah Rashīd was saying.

“Hi, Durgesh, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! I don’t think we can meet now at Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. I― I think I’m poisoned.”

“What?” I was suddenly all alert, “Where are you?”

“Poisoned.” Shaguftah Rashīd said wearily, “they― they got me despite my every precaution.”

“Your husband?”

“I think so.”

“Damn it. The hell. Where are you?”

“Thought I was smarter―”

“Stop telling me anything else, you idiot. Tell me where you are. Nothing else. Let me come there.”

The words came with an effort.

They were interspersed with intervals of heavy breathing.

“Apartment… Box of candy… ate… sick… Can’t … Can’t … please send help… Get police… Get… Get…”

The conversation terminated in a crash.

It was as if the telephone was dropped to the floor.

I said,

“Hello, Shaguftah Rashīd… hello Shaguftah Rashīd.”

There was nothing to be heard.

Then, after a moment, the receiver clicked into place at the other end of the line.

Kħadījah Muħammad had dashed to her mobile the minute she heard me asking ‘where are you’.

She tried to ask the exchange operator to trace the call.

Even then Kħadījah Muħammad was too late.

The receiver had been hung up at the other end before Kħadījah Muħammad had finished explaining what was wanted.

She waited at her mobile long enough to learn that there was no possibility of tracing the call anymore.

Then, she looked at me.

“What was it?” Kħadījah Muħammad asked me.

“She says someone sent her a box of candy. She ate the candy. It was poisoned. She certainly sounds sick or drunk. Now, the problem is I don’t know her.”

“What? I thought you have already fucked her.”

“How? On the phone? I’ve never met her and―”

“And?”

“And I doubt her name Shaguftah Rashīd is also phony.”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?”

“That’s right.”

“Hey, she can’t inform you she is poisoned using her phony name.”

“You may be right.”

“Now what?”

“Assuming her name is true the question is, what’s her address, where is she? Kħadījah, see if there’s any Shaguftah Rashīd listed in the telephone directory?”

Kħadījah Muħammad thumbed through the pages of the telephone directory.

“No, there isn’t.”

I looked at my watch.

“We’ve got to locate this Shaguftah Rashīd. That call sounded genuine to me. Police.”

I grabbed my mobile and contacted Commissioner of Police himself.

“Hello, Muħammad, Durgesh here.”

“Well, well, well, you rascal, at this time―”

“Muħammad Åbdullah, I want quick action from your police.”

“You mean business?”

“Of course, listen to me. I had a call a few minutes ago from a Shaguftah Rashīd. She said that she was at an apartment. I presume it’s an apartment where she lives, but she didn’t say so. I don’t know the address. I don’t know anything about her, except that I had an appointment with her in Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club for Masked Fucking at one o’clock this morning. She is my shareholder.”

“Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club?”

“I said my shareholder. Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club is not my project.”

“Sorry, HVSI?”

“HVSI.”

“Why do you hate Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club so much?”

“That name is being used to irritate Musalmīn. It’s detrimental to Hindu Muslim unity. Do you need anything more that I should hate it?”

“No. But it’s one of your Live in Relationship Partners’ movement. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bhābhījān is behind it.”

“That doesn’t make it virtuous. Does it?”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Come to the point, Muħammad. This isn’t the proper time to discuss the activities of my Live in Relationship Partners. Now get this straight. The so called Shaguftah Rashīd said over the telephone that someone had sent her a box of poisoned candy. She sounded very ill. Her speech was thick, and apparently she either fell over or the telephone from her hand as she was talking. Then the receiver was dropped back into place. She seemed to think she’d been poisoned to keep her from talking.”

“You can’t give us an address, Durgesh?”

“No.”

“Well, we’ll try our best. She must be registered as a voter at least. We’ll look her up. If that name is phony none can save her, I’m sorry.”

“Call back me, Muħammad. And let me know, please, if you find anything. Will you?”

“Why not? But Durgesh, if my persons haven’t got an address, there’s nothing we can do. Where are you?”

“With Kħadījah Muħammad.”

“You’ll be there until I call you back?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll call you back.”

“Thank you. And don’t give any exaggerated facility to my Live in Relationship Partners without my express consent.”

“Your Live in Relationship Partners are not my friend Durgesh. They talk with me as if I’m not a Commissioner of police. They think I’m their personal security guard.”

“I’m sorry, Muħammad.”

“Hell, I’m not complaining. After all, they may be right.”

“What?”

“We are friends. They are my Bhābhījāns. So, they have a right on me. Don’t they?”

“To hell with you and your Bhābhījāns. Go to hell all of you. I have told you so many times not to treat them so important. But―”

“How is it possible, Durgesh? They are like my Ammīs. Aren’t they?”

“Go to hell.”

I disconnected the mobile.

Chapter 17

——————————————————————————————–

KĦĀTŪN-E-JANNAT: 13

Posted: March 29, 2012 | Author: Durgesh | Filed under: Adult Science Fiction, Ashvinatam, Bachhalyās, Brahmkanyās, Brahmāñīs., Muslimahs, Muslimat | Tags: Al Tawīd Al Islam, Arzumand Jahāngīr, Ashvinatam, Ashvinatam sex, Ashvinatam Yugal, Behavioural Science, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar, Durgesh, Feminism, HLMCIC, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz, Kħadījah Muħammad, life sciences, Muslim Feminism, Muslim girls love a Hindu, Muslim girls marry a Hindu, Muslim women love a Hindu, Muslim women marry a Hindu, Nafīsah Salmān, Noorjahān Jahangīr, Saiyadā Fātimah PhD, Salīm Jahangīr, Shaguftah Rashīd, Sheikħah Al Ibādat Åbdul Åzīz, society, Sophisticated Positive adult sex | 8 Comments

Kħātūn-e-Jannat

Chapter 13

Durgesh Arzumand Jahāngīr

After slowly recovering from this magnificent lovemaking, I slowly put Arzumand Jahāngīr down kissing her, loving her.

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten, Durgesh darling that I made you pay Rupees one hundred crore more for the land you purchased in Ved Nagar.”

“I never purchase any land in Ved Nagar. HVSI did it.” I smiled.

Our bodies were still wet and our hearts were racing.

Arzumand Jahāngīr reached up to stroke my face as I looked down at her.

“Aren’t you the lifelong Chairman of HVSI?”

“Of course, I am.” I smiled cunningly.

She knew if we ever had to end our relationship, she’d never be able to share another moment so special like this one with anyone else.

Ever.

“Then why don’t you acknowledge your defeat?”

“Arzumand Jahāngīr, only because you are the top student of London School of Business, you aren’t capable enough to understand my Business Strategies.”

“Hasn’t HVSI lost Rs. One hundred crore more for the land it purchased today in auction?”

“According to its present value, isn’t it?”

“Of course.”

“You can’t imagine its future value HVSI is planning to give it.”

“I see.”

“After that, it’d pay HVSI so many hundred crores more we couldn’t have gotten if that particular land was not ours.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are pleasuring yourself thinking you’ve made me pay Rs. One hundred crore more. I’m pleasuring myself thinking I’ve secured so many hundred crores more for HVSI. Paying only one hundred crore more for them is too shrewd for the rest of the Business community to understand.” I smiled triumphantly.

Arzumand Jahāngīr smiled ironically.

“You are trying to save your face, Durgesh darling, the Supreme Business Tycoon. I sympathize with you.”

“That’s keeping you all the Business Community too satisfied and happy to watch me now for my new Business Games I’m playing behind it.”*

It was a great news today that the Supreme Business Tycoon, the multi zillionaire Durgesh has lost to a much younger girl from Karachi Pakistan.

Business Today Karachi had published that Arzumand Jahāngīr had successfully defeated me.

Yet, the other Business Dailies doubted my ostensible defeat.

They said,

‘Durgesh is too shrewd a businessman to be defeated so easily. There must be some hidden business strategy they are still unable to understand.’

Yet, Salīm Jahangīr had called Arzumand Jahāngīr to congratulate her.

“My child, you’ve successfully broken the pride of Durgesh the so called Supreme Business Tycoon, the multi zillionaire.”

Arzumand Jahāngīr was not so sure now.

“Abbū, thank you very much. But now I myself doubt my so-called victory on Durgesh. It was too easy to be genuine, I think now.”

Salīm Jahangīr laughed.

“That’s what Durgesh’s strategy whenever he loses any business to someone. He manages to play his cards in such a manner that everyone gets confused what Durgesh really after is.”

Noorjahān Jahangīr, Arzumand Jahāngīr’s Ammī, was worried it might be the end of business carrier of Arzumand Jahāngīr.

“Durgesh is dangerous.”

“Not to his women, you stupid.” Salīm Jahangīr laughed, “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know very well how to protect my daughter from the ever shrewdest businessman Durgesh.” He winked at his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān wife.*

My master plan overall had to be carried out quietly.

The minute I tried to blueprint my plans, it might defeat its own purpose.

Prices of the properties I hoped to acquire might go up beyond all reasons.

There were so many anti humanity forces that didn’t want HVSI win the battle.

All of them had their own selfish stakes.

The interests of HVSI were always against them.

It wasn’t anything that could be explained publicly.

It was detrimental to the business.

I intended to address the stockholders’ meeting.

There was entire Ārsh Sadan to support me.

Yet, what about the small stockholders?

The ones who had put some thousands of Rupees here, some thousands of Rupees there?

Weren’t they the stockholders that concededly wanted profit and action?

They didn’t know how to do business successfully.

Neither, they wanted to know it ever.

The only thing they wanted foolishly was profit and action.

I folded the newspaper, switched out lights.

I was heading for the door, when the phone rang.

I answered it.

“Durgesh speaking.”

There was some woman on the other side.

Her voice was fascinating.

Yet there was something in it that carried its own warning.

It was too syrupy smooth.

I felt I’d certainly heard it before.

“Hey Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!”

“The same.” I smiled, “May I ask who is it honoring me now?”

“Come and have the full honor.” She smiled seductively, “I must see you. I have some secret information that will be of the greatest value to you.”

“I’m waiting here. Please come to let me give you proper response.” I smiled artfully.

“Sorry darling. I can’t come to your office. My jealous Musalmān husband is watching me.”

“You are a Musalmān Beauty?”

“Shaguftah Rashīd for you.”

“I don’t think I place you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Then honor me to let me know you personally.”

The voice of Shaguftah Rashīd grew more seductive.

“That’s why I want to meet you privately, alone, somewhere where no one will know.”

“Don’t get frightened of your jealous Musalmān husband.”

“He is capable.”

“What do you mean?”

“He is criminal minded and I suspect he is a criminal himself.”

I winked at the unknown Musalmān Beauty.

“Want to cuckold him?”

“Why not?” Shaguftah Rashīd beamed, “It would serve the bastard right.”

“Come on. I already have a great erection for you.”

“I don’t think it would be safe. Let’s see each other at Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club.”

“Okay.”

“Come with your Uncut Hindu Lund in erection already for me. I promise to have my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot wet and ready to have it inside.”

“Done. See you my darling.”*

Shaguftah Rashīd smiled.

“Thank you. Go there. Register there for masked fucking.”

“Eīshān, Shaguftah Rashīd, you want masked fucking between us?”

“Nonsense. I want to disguise myself from my Musalmān husband only, not from you. We would remove our masks once we are with each other.”

“That’s very good.” I beamed, “How old are you, Shaguftah Rashīd?”

Shaguftah Rashīd smirked.

“Can’t wait even until you see me yourself?”

“Nonsense! Sālī, you’ve already hardened me enough to fuck you forever.”

“I’m honored. Thank you very much for behaving with me so nice.”

“It’s my pleasure, my dear.”

“I thought you’d be cautious enough to meet me.”

“Not enough, not even to take the chance that I can fuck a Musalmān Beauty.”

Shaguftah Rashīd laughed.

“They say appropriately that you are crazy to fuck us Musalmān Beauties, méré Hindu Piyā.”

“I know I do live in a glass house always with my Musalmān Beauties. Their ever jealous Musalmān husbands and other over zealous Musalmān brethren are always after us. Poor stupids don’t know they risk their ever certain cuckolding for coming between their Musalmān houseladies and me.”

Shaguftah Rashīd laughed debasing such Musalmīn.

“Mérī Musalmān Choot mein jab Hindu Lund hai,

Muslim, hai yeh sazā tujhé, mujhko pasand hai.”

I laughed too.

“I appreciate the spirit, my darling.”

“I can’t talk with you now any longer without making my Musalmān husband suspicious. And dangerous consequently. I don’t think it would be wise. I want to see you. I want you to fuck me to degrade my criminal minded Musalmān husband. I’m married to him only because we were Muslims. There was no question of him being a noble man too.”

“Most of the Muslimahs are married to absolutely undeserving Musalmīn similarly. I sympathize with you Musalmān Beauties. That’s why I fuck you Musalmān Beauties to compensate it however much I can.”

“We Musalmān Beauties are grateful to you, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! Deeply indebted for the social service you are providing in this way to us Musalmān Beauties.”

“We, the entire Hindus, are instructed to serve you Musalmān Beauties in this way, my dear. Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā orders us:

‘N’ yé divah pr’thivyā antamāpurn māyābhirdhandām paryabhūvan,

Yujam vajram vr’shbhashchakr indro nirjyotishā tamso gā aduxat.’

‘The persons that didn’t reach the end of celestial bodies and earth, neither chagrined by prudences the one that gives wealth all over. Vr’shabh did vajr to ‘yuj’. The controller of organs continuously milked the cows of darkness, with light.’

― Ved: R’gved: 1| 33| 10”

Shaguftah Rashīd smiled.

“We appreciate the concern, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! But not only have our appreciation we to offer to our Muħsin-e-Åāzam, Muħsin-e-Muslimāt. I have information too you should have. It is the information that you must have to protect the stockholders, protect us Musalmān Beauties, protect yourself, and save HVSI for the welfare of entire humankind. Imām Muħammad Ħasan hasn’t only succeeded in penetrating our safest fort of HVSI through some of us foolish Musalmān Beauties, he has even more proxies than you estimate. You’ve succeeded in cuckolding him, but he has accepted his cuckolding as his inevitable fate. It has made Imām Muħammad Ħasan even ever more perilous than you think.”

“Oh,”

“Imām Muħammad Ħasan is a very dangerous antagonist now to us Musalmān Beauties as well as to you Hindus too. He is against his own daughter, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s movements ‘Cuckold your Musalmān husband’, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club etcetera. He is fighting desperately to control HVSI too, at least as much as he can.”

“I see.”

“You have to start a counter campaign.”

I smiled.

“Chahat uđāvani phūnki pahāđū?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t follow you.”

“He wants to blow away mountain, Himalayas rather, by―”

“Aren’t you underestimating him too much?”

“I don’t think so.” I contradicted Shaguftah Rashīd, “Rather I think you are making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“I appreciate your self confidence yet―”

“Let’s meet. There are certain matters I can’t discuss over the mobile.”

“I can understand. I’m not dumb enough not to appreciate your position.”

“That’s very noble of you. But there are also certain matters that are not apt to be discussed in the media. The stockholders have to have faith in someone, after all. If they don’t understand it they might wind up in financial gutter even. Their holdings have multiplied so many times in value during the past years in my management. I’ve every reason to believe they’ll continue to climb, and―”

“Allah, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!” the melodious female voice exclaimed, “Don’t try to sell me. I’m not imprudent enough not to understand that. Imām Muħammad Ħasan is a crook. He is trying to get at least somewhat control in HVSI. He and his friends are after manipulation of the assets of HVSI. I wouldn’t trust him two feet away for two seconds even. I want you to have the information that I have.”

“I understand.”

“I don’t think you do perfectly. If you knew as much as I do, you’d realized that I’m in danger already just talking to you.”

“What danger?”

“Allah, don’t act to be so innocent enough that you don’t understand these things perfectly. If you didn’t you weren’t the Supreme Business Tycoon, the multi zillionaire.” Shaguftah Rashīd said angrily, “I’m in danger of getting killed.”

Shaguftah Rashīd slammed up the telephone at her end.*

I sat on my executive chair for some minutes I’ve put the receiver on the cradle.

Shaguftah Rashīd was not her real name, I was sure now.

She was prudent enough not to use it.

Yet, there had been something in her voice, attitude and other things that carried genuineness.

It carried conviction.

I knew the necessity for caution, however.

Imām Muħammad Ħasan could really go to any extent.

His every Musalmān houselady is my Live in Relationship Partner now.

He himself was cuckolded to his extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies and me to the extent he licked their Musalmān Cunts and Musalmān asses after I fucked them.

Nafīsah Salmān enjoyed it, but even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was not against it.

She was ultramodern and bold enough to allow her real Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, to lick her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt clean after I fucked her.

Imām Muħammad Ħasan did it publicly proudly even.

Yet I wasn’t sure he never felt his self respect hurt from what he was forced to do by his own Musalmān houseladies, even by his own real daughters too.

We urinated in his mouth.

We used it as our toilet too.

Nafīsah Salmān enjoyed it very much.

But even Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was not very much against it.

Half a dozen attempts were made to frame me during last two weeks.

I anticipated it.

In every attempt the major players were caught red handed and now they were behind the bars.

I was sixty three already.

I knew very well how they used to play these dirty games.

My infinite Bhogchakr was not letting them succeed even a bit.

They hadn’t any Bhogchakr left to them at all.

Their constant Shaktixaý they were unable to stop as they didn’t even believe in the Shaktipāt Shaktixaý principle.

Yet, I couldn’t deny the possibility if I go to a hotel, leave the door open, have some Jet Musalmān Beauty join me, and perhaps a few minutes later there could be the sound of police whistles.

The conspirators never knew I’d already reported to the higher police authorities and was acting under their constant surveillance.*

My infinite Bhogchakr had provided me infinite intelligence too.

It had already made the higher authorities favorable to me.

Due to my every day ten times multiplying infinite Bhogchakr they couldn’t go against me ever.

They didn’t know anything about it.

Even if they were told they believed it was a superstition of the foolish Hindus.

So they couldn’t have an antithesis against it.

I was never afraid of any unpleasant newspaper notoriety even.

Ved, Divý Itihās, the vast history of the ever shrewdest Bachhalyās, Hindu history, and Mahā Bhārat etcetera had already made me shrewd enough to change every unpleasant newspaper notoriety even, in my favor with not more tremendous efforts.

Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā was always with me if I was never against humanity, and ever active in doing favors to it instead.

Let the atheists laugh at it imagining it my superstition.

Why should I worry when I never suffered in having faith in it?

I always believed in results.

Never in gossips and the foolish blind superstitions of the atheists.

In my opinion, the atheists were the stupidest persons who still believed in atheism despite Soviet Union’s and Comm unism’s too, drastic failure everywhere.

I laughed at them.

In my opinion only atheists could be so blind, impractical and imprudent.

None of any practical persons could be ever so unwise.

I waited for fifteen minutes.

Then I again switched out the lights, saw that the night latch was on the door, and went down in the elevator.*

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah inserted her latchkey, clicked back the lock, and entered the living room where Muħammad Ůsmān was sprawled out in a chair reading a newspaper.

A small, leather backed memorandum book was in his left hand.

A pencil was behind his right ear.

Frowning at the interruption, Muħammad Ůsmān looked up.

It took him an effort to manage a smile as he saw Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah.

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah didn’t fail to notice that Muħammad Ůsmān hastily shoved the notebook into the side pocket of his coat.

“Hello, Kħātūn-e-Jannat^rza,” Muħammad Ůsmān tried to beam at her, “Your precious sex sessions with the Supreme Business Tycoon, the Multi Zillionaire, Durgesh, have started to produce their miraculous results to you I think. I couldn’t hear you drive up.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah so hated Muħammad Ůsmān that she didn’t try even to hide her hatred for him.

“Where’s Ruqayyah Bājī?” she asked him curtly.

“Upstairs my dear.” Muħammad Ůsmān smiled at her over doing his welcome contemptuously, “Where else?”

“Asleep?”

“No. She is lying there reading.”

“I’ll go up for a few minutes.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said, “You aren’t going out, are you Kħalīfatul Musalmīn?”

She always called him Kħalīfatul Musalmīn as he used to call her Kħātūn-e-Jannat razī Allāhu tålā ånhā ironically.

“No. Gosh, no. What gave you that idea, Kħātūn-e-Jannat razī Allāhu tålā ånhā?”

“Don’t call me that. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan would hear and nowadays she is being called by that gracious title.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled at him humiliating him more.

“For me you are yourself Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånhā.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah avoided the discussion.

“I want to see you.”

“You are most welcome my lady.”

“Don’t exaggerate it.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah said tartly, “you look ridiculous.”

She paused in the doorway, turned and said,

“When you are figuring the race horses, Muħammad Ůsmān, don’t think you have to fall all over yourself putting out of sight just because I happen to walk in unannounced.”

Muħammad Ůsmān flushed.

Sālī, Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot is making her more and more smarter day by day.

The trouble with Durgesh and the other similar Hindus is they don’t only fuck Musalmān Beauties.

They make them smarter than Musalmīn too.

They are never interested in sex with them only.

They make them educated, sophisticated and financially independent too.

Once a Musalmān Beauty gets a Hindu lover, she never returns to a Musalmān.

The Hindus give too much to their Musalmān women.

Durgesh gives even more than the other Hindus.

They shamelessly say:

‘Once with Durgesh,

All the rest is trash.’

Durgesh has made them multimillionaires at least.

The Musalmīn are left so much far behind now.

Moreover, the gap between the Musalmān Beauties with Hindus and the Musalmīn is still widening day by day, financially, intellectually, politically and in humanity and religious knowledge too.

The Musalmān Beauties with Hindus are more and more successful everywhere.

Muħammad Ůsmān tried to save his face laughing and saying somewhat sheepishly, guiltily, awkwardly, shamefacedly,

“You startled me, Kħātūn-e-Jannat razī Allāhu tålā ånhā, that’s all.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah climbed the stairs to where her elder sister lay in bed leisurely.

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah was herself not less smart.

Since her accident, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah had understood everything what Muħammad Ůsmān was after.

She punished him suitably.

She fucked Durgesh herself right in front of Muħammad Ůsmān and made him to clean not only her Musalmān Cunt but her gorgeous Musalmān ass as well.

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah successfully cuckolded Muħammad Ůsmān to herself and me.

Fucking Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah I had warned Muħammad Ůsmān.

“You are a slave for Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah from now on, Muħammad Ůsmān. We promise it to keep to us if you cooperate with us. If you don’t, the movie of what happened here today will be released in the global theaters of Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, ‘Cuckold your Musalmān husband’, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club and Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. It’s up to you now what your future would be. As far as the future of Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah is concerned she is safe now in my nude Hindu lap forever.”

Pillows propped against Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah’s back elevated her beautiful shoulders to a comfortable position.

A rose-shaded reading lamp was fastened to the head of the bed.

It threw light over her left shoulder to the pages of the book, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah was reading.

It was ‘Årab Maha Bhārat’.

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah turned the shade of the light down.

The room was filled with a soft, rosy glow.

“I thought you wouldn’t come now.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah was grave.

“I can’t afford not to come. I was detained actually. How’s everything today?”

“Getting better day by day. Muħammad Ůsmān now himself holds Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund and sets it between my labial lips. He has surrendered to us now absolutely.”

“It maybe his act only.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah warned her, “Muħammad Ůsmān is not so dumb as he wants the others to believe. Never forget he was the person who wanted to murder you for your money.”

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah gritted her teeth.

“How can I? The bastard has to payback for it for the rest of his life.”

“That’s the spirit.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled, “I was afraid of your Spectacular Islamic loyalty as his ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.”

“You were always right, Fātimah, that the bastard was after my money. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you first.”

“But thanks Allah that your subconscious believed me, otherwise you wouldn’t have jumped out from the car successfully as soon as you realized there was something wrong in your Musalmān husband’s attitude.”

“Your warning saved me, Fātimah.”

“Allah Raħmānirraħīm.”

“You are right.”

“What’s the book?”

“Årab Maha Bhārat.”

“How many times you’d read it?”

“Durgesh is the only writer I love to read now again and again.”

“Bājī, you hated his writing once.”

“Yes, what a fool I was. I thought he writes against us.”

“And now?”

“And now what?”

“You know.” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled.

“Now Durgesh is the only writer I love to read ever. But he isn’t an abundant writer, Fātimah. He must write more. He is the only writer that understands our problems, our society, our religion and our needs as accurate as even we don’t do.”

“You are right.”

“He must write more.”

“Make him.”

“He says he tries his best but he has other things to do as well.”

“Well, I’m sorry I was late. I just ran in to see how you were getting along after Cuckolding Your Musalmān husband.”

Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed,

“My blind loyalty to him is gone forever, Fātimah. Don’t worry. I want to punish him forever now. That’s all. Otherwise I’d have turned him to the police.”

“The police? The police are also pro Pseudo Islam. It’s really Årab Imperialism now, Bājī.”

“I dreamed of Fātimah, that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has succeeded after all. She is the new Everfirst President of Saůūdī Årab.”

Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah laughed.

“Nonsense. She wouldn’t be ever. She says only Saiyadah Fātimah PhD Bājī deserves the honor.”

“Saiyadah Fātimah PhD Bājī says Kħadījah Muħammad Bājī is perfect for the post.”*

Kħadījah Muħammad was startled.

“What? I would be the Everfirst President of Saůūdī Årab?”

“Why not?” Saiyadah Fātimah PhD asked curtly.

“Bājī, you don’t mean it seriously, do you?” Kħadījah Muħammad laughed, “You are joking. Aren’t you?”

“Absolutely not. I’m dead serious.” Saiyadah Fātimah PhD declared firmly.

Kħadījah Muħammad hesitated.

“Why not you?”

“Because I lack to qualify.”

“What do you mean? We both are PhD.”

“But I never outexcelled you in politics, did I ever?”*

Abruptly the King’s voice was gone.

Through the perforated holes of the loudspeaker box came a faint tearing sound.

It was as if some canvas being ripped.

Then there was a tinny whine, and then the ear splitting falsetto crackle of static, and then dead silence.

Sheikħah Al Ibādat Åbdul Åzīz had reached forward.

She placed a hand on the microphone box as if to steady it.

Then quietly she spoke into the box.

“Your Majesty― hello, your Royal Majesty, we cannot hear you. We have lost you. Try again. Please try again.”

Sheikħah Al Ibādat Åbdul Åzīz remained immobilized.

Her cocked head was listening for a response.

But there was no sound.

Her hand shook on the microphone box slightly.

“Muåīn, this is Al Ibādat here. Can you hear me?”

The loudspeaker stood mute.

Sheikħah Al Ibādat Åbdul Åzīz stared at it a moment.

Then she looked about the room at the others:

“I think we’ve been disconnected. We’ll have to get him back.”

General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz was already on her feet.

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s movements ‘Cuckold Your Musalmān husband’, ‘Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh’, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club etcetera had forced the King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz to surrender to the popular demands of the globe wide followers of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.

The appointment of General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz was the result of it.

Not only it, there were so many drastic changes also in Saůūdī Årab administrations.

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was succeeding miraculously.

She was already on the road to establish democracy not only in Saůūdī Årab but in the entire Islamic countries as well.

Both Saiyadah Fātimah PhD and Kħadījah Muħammad were immensely supporting Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan almost blindly.

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was the utmost popular leader of not only Musalmān Beauties, the Musalmīn even in a great large number were supporting her knowingly or unknowingly.

General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz hurried to the ordinary green handset telephone at Al Tawħīd Al Islam’s elbow.

“Let me get hold of the Signal Corps.” She was saying, “This happens from time to time with the mechanical unscrambler. I’ll have them track the trouble down. We’ll be hooked up again in a few minutes.”

Al Tawħīd Al Islam was worried.

She wasn’t as sure as General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz was.

Al Tawħīd Al Islam knew very well that ultimately Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had done it.

She has ultimately succeeded in destroying the age old autonomy of Al Sauds.

King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz was made to surrender to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan gradually, systematically and diplomatically.

They say Durgesh was not behind it.

It was done by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, her movements ‘Cuckold Your Musalmān husband’, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh’, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, and her millions of the followers themselves.

Al Tawħīd Al Islam only smiled at these diplomatic rumors.

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t do anything without the systematic veiled support of her Hindu Live in Relationship Partner, Durgesh.

Al Tawħīd Al Islam had witnessed the treaty between King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.

It was only the political drama to immobilize the supporters of Al Sauds.

King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz has voluntary retired.

He has received more than he could have in all his lifetime.

Why then he had wanted to face Islamic terrorists?

He wasn’t fool enough.*

From her earliest childhood at Makkah Mukarramah, Al Tawħīd Al Islam remembered, she had been raised by her parents.

Her Abbū had lost his wife ab initio when his nikāħ was in execution.

Al Tawħīd Al Islam’s Ammī, Al Furqān Al Wahāb, refused even the Shab-e-Ůrosī with her duly married husband, Al Muħammad Al Ikħlās.

She demanded Durgesh and Al Muħammad Al Ikħlās provided her.

Al Furqān Al Wahāb had threatened to disclose his secrets otherwise.

Al Muħammad Al Ikħlās couldn’t afford it.

It was a miracle he had succeeded in convincing Al Furqān Al Wahāb to sleep with him too as I couldn’t be available to her all the time.

Al Tawħīd Al Islam was Al Muħammad Al Ikħlās’s daughter from Al Furqān Al Wahāb.

As personal secretary to the King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz, Al Tawħīd Al Islam possessed great pride in her position.

She was shrewd enough to understand the trend when Al Saåūds started to lose.

Gradually the things were turning beyond their control.

She was prudent enough to understand sooner or later the Al Saåūds had to go.

She joined Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan secretly when she was invited.

Even King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz didn’t know it.

Al Tawħīd Al Islam was smart enough to manage it.*

General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz called the department of Army.

She reported the communication failure.

Barking her displeasure, General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz demanded that the line to her Commander in Chief be restored.

Al Tawħīd Al Islam had the mental picture.

A Brueghel in animation, of a thousand little enlisted men and women, Hindu men and Musalmān women, only they were capable to handle it.

The Musalmīn loved Pseudo Islam more than the ultramodern education.

Thousand Hindu men and Musalmān women with repair tools were scurrying up and down the ramps of the Communication Building.

General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz’s stars and her ribbons and her adamant anti Pseudo Islam attitude had always cautioned Al Tawħīd Al Islam.

Al Tawħīd Al Islam wanted to be as far away from General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz as possible.

Al Tawħīd Al Islam knew, General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s one of the best friends and Durgesh’s one of the utmost loyal Live in Relationship Partners.

General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz was more capable than even King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz was.

General Al Firdaus Åbdul Åzīz was still on telephone.*

Al Tawħīd Al Islam put down her pad, pushed back her chair and stood up.

She found the green silent butler, and began to move about the Cabinet table.

The Cabinet table was also a new development.

Al Tawħīd Al Islam emptied ashtrays into the green silent butler.

Here and there, around the table, the participants in the conference call had shifted positions on their chairs to discuss the King’s opinion on what had happened so far at the Islamic Countries Conference and what must be done about it.

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was rocking back and forth on my Uncut Hindu Lund bravely gripping it into her ever tight, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, proudly.

Al Tawħīd Al Islam watched the superb successful young Musalmān lady scrutinizing her.

Was it true Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Svarūpé avasthānam, her ultimate synchronization with her original body in absolute space, has taken place?

Was her original body really Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånhā?

She couldn’t decide.

Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånhā couldn’t be as ultramodern as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is.

It was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s another political stunt to be benefitted from the ever superstitious Pseudo Musalmīn.

She had successfully exploited the religious sentiments of Pseudo Musalmīn all over the globe.

The Hindus were also behind her under the ever shrewdest leadership of Durgesh himself.

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had listened carefully to ‘Senator’ Dr. Saåīdah Qamar and representative Barr-e-saghīr Hind-o-Pak, discuss the possibility of expediting ratification of Islamic Unity Pact.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar expressed confidence that she would have sufficient votes to obtain passage of the Pact through National Assembly of Pakistan.

Still, to win the necessary votes, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar felt that she would have to do some shrewd horse trading in the cloakrooms and at luncheons in the Hotel Kħātūn-e-Jannat.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar admitted that she hated to make concessions on the important Minorities Rehabilitation Program.

It was being debated by the Labor and Public Welfare Committee.

Yet, it might be necessary still.

As soon as the connection was made again with Islamic Countries Conference, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar would ask the King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz how much he concede to the opposition floor leader, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, in return for Dr. Saåīdah Qamar’s full support of Joint Senate.

Cleaning out the last of the ashtrays, Al Tawħīd Al Islam could hear Assistant Secretary, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī and Governor Nafīsah Salmān once more locked in disagreement.

Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī was saying that any weakness that the Saůūdī Årab Government displayed in Islamic Countries Conference, would immediately aggravate Pseudo Musalmīn protest groups in Saůūdī Årab.

Nafīsah Salmān wouldn’t accept this.

She tried to reduce Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī to the role of uninformed outsider.

Nafīsah Salmān was retorting that both she and the King Al Muåīn Al Åbdul Åzīz had already met with the Imām Muħammad Ħasan.

The clergyman was once her husband, actually still now legally, as there wasn’t any divorce between them legally.

Imām Muħammad Ħasan had assured Nafīsah Salmān that the vast conservative Ummat-e-Muslimah was headed by him.

Ummat-e-Muslimah had outgrown the Al Ħifāzat Al Islam in membership and power.

Ummat-e-Muslimah would be satisfied with the ratification of the Islamic Unity Pact.*

I remembered:

I smiled,

“Zinger?”

“Of course,” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar pushed herself somewhat backward and unzipped me shamelessly, rather boldly.

She brought out my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis and kissed it passionately.

I closed my eyes in heavenly pleasure,

“Thank you, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar.”

“Nonsense, it’s my pleasure.” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar admonished me.

“You are thirty only, my darling.”

“So what? You are thirty two yourself. We make a perfect Ashvinātam Couple, the trend of the age now.”

“Thank you. However you are mistaken. I’m sixty two.”

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar laughed.

“Yes, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan warned me.”

“Oh,”

“Why do you do that, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!?”

“Why do I do what?” I asked somewhat curtly.

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was already influencing her.

It was not good.

“Why do you love to fuck mature Musalmān Beauties more, I mean?” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar smiled playing with my Uncut Hindu Lund boldly.

“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said that to you?”

“She is your unmarried wife, Durgesh darling. She is your Live in Relationship Partner.”

“I never rejected her claim to be so.”

“You are not happy with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?”

“I’m fed up of the twenty eights and thirties. I’m sixty two. I want to enjoy the Musalmān Beauties of my own age group.”

“And Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is an impediment in it?”

“She is deliberately trying to keep away them, obstinate to replace them with twenty eights and thirties.”

“Allah Allah! Angry young man, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan loves you very much, and so do I.”

“So do me too. Yet I abominate the way Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is trying to compel me to fuck twenty eights and thirties only.”

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar threw her head back and laughed.

She was playing with my Uncut Hindu Penis now delightfully.

I entered my right palm into her bra and started playing with her erect Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān breasts, myself.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar bent and started licking my Uncut Hindu Lund along its entire Hindu length and thickness.

“Dr. Fātimah Vaqār Taymūr has already come to help you, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said.” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar smiled at me teasingly.

“Sālī, Badmåsh, who are you with, actually, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan or me?” I smiled controlling myself now.

What was the use, after all?

Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was incurable.

She reviled her Ammī Nafīsah Salmān.

“You haven’t told me about the zinger still now.” Dr. Saåīdah Qamar swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Lund into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.

She was sucking it now hungrily.

I smiled.

“I don’t think you miss your husband very much. I’m replacing him without any much effort on my side.”

“Should I really miss the bastard?”

I winked at her.

“Imām Dr. Aurangzeb Åālamgīr was a bastard, I didn’t know.”

“Hey, don’t try to tease me. You know very well what I mean. I thought it would never come that he would leave us ever.”

I wasn’t taken aback.

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar smiled.

“I see I didn’t shock you. You are in the wings too long time to be shocked. You are enjoying sex with so many Musalmān Beauties now that you have experienced almost all the reactions from us.”

I didn’t say anything.

I kept smiling only.

“We were fed up of him. He was too religious to be a normal husband. Musalmīn are stupid enough―”

I raised my right hand.

“I know how stupid the Musalmīn are. You the four are given a nice settlement.”

Dr. Saåīdah Qamar smiled.

“Well, let’s get on with it. Make it official, Durgesh darling.”

I was unsettled somewhat.

I pulled myself together.

Then I drew the document across the desk closer to me.

I took a moment to compose myself.

“Would you like me to read the deed of settlement to you, Dr. Saåīdah Qamar? It’s a short testament. You should have heard it fully before you signed it. I told you to do so.”

“That was not our goal. We wanted to get rid of him. The settlement was secondary.”*

Chapter 14

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