Āmnah Azhar laughed impishly,
In Surah (56)AI-Waqi`ah the same thing has been described as Kitab-um-Maknun (the hidden and preserved Book) and in Surah (85)AI-Buruj 22 as Lauh-i Mahfuz (the Preserved Tablet), that is, the Tablet whose writing cannot be effaced, which is secure from every kind of interference.
By saying that the Qur’an is inscribed in Umm al-Kitab, attention has been drawn to an important truth.
Different Books had been revealed by Allah in different ages to different Prophets for the guidance of different nations in different languages, but aII these Books invited mankind to one and the same Faith: they regarded one and the same thing as the Truth; they presented one and the same criterion of good and evil; they propounded the same principles of morality and civilization; in short, they brought one and the same Din (Religion).
The reason was that their source and origin was the same, only words were different; they had the same meaning and theme which is inscribed in a Source Book with Allah, and whenever there was a need, He raised a Prophet and sent down the same meaning and subject-matter clothed in a particular diction according to the environment and occasion.
Had Allah willed to raise the Prophet Muhammad (upon whom be His peace) in another nation instead of the Arabs, He would have sent down the same Qur’an in the language of that nation.”’
“What do you want to say actually, Āmnah Azhar?”
“Don’t tell me that you didn’t understand.” Āmnah Azhar smiled, “I would never believe. You are too wise that no one can believe you didn’t understand.”
“And why does Allah need to keep this Source Book with him?”
“Simple, so that there could never be any alteration Allah doesn’t want in the Source Book.” Āmnah Azhar smiled triumphantly, “Stupid question. I never thought you can’t understand even such a simple necessity.”
“I see.” I smiled patiently, “So, you think Allah can save this Source Book, Alkitāb, from any unwanted alteration only if it’s with Him? As soon as it’s out of His exclusive possession, Allah is, Shanno Mitrah, never capable to keep it safe from it? You really think Allah is that much incapable, Shanno Mitrah sham Varuñah shanno bhavatvaryamā!”*
Her partner and Al Samīnah Al Faraħ had just broken up.
It wasn’t that big of a deal, but she had probably been the one Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was most ready to settle down with.
They’d been together for a year.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ had thought that they were on a great track that had a promising future.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was optimistic that within the coming years there would be equal rights and at least general acceptance of their lifestyle.
However, when Al Samīnah Al Faraħ told her that she didn’t think that Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was truly a “lesbian”, she took offense.
It didn’t matter that Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was genuinely attracted to her, or that they had great chemistry.
In the end, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ wasn’t “real”.
Her bisexuality was a problem and it brought to an end what seemed so bright only days before.
As a result, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ ended up back home over New Year’s Day weekend.
That’s kind of how Al Samīnah Al Faraħ got into the situation that she currently found herself in.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ was thinking that Al Samīnah Al Faraħ would just get some time away from the pressures of office and the break up and take a breather.
Her sisters, normally her support crew, were off enjoying their own lives in different parts of the world and were probably out working it with someone special for the big January 1.
Not Al Samīnah Al Faraħ.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ would just be home alone with me.
That’s the other part of her situation, I.
Despite being extremely loyal to the Pseudo Islam and Kashmir valley, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ loved me to death, but sometimes I was a bit over mature.
Growing up with a coop immensely full of hens, I learned almost everything about them.
Three daughters and their Ammī.
Naturally, I got quite clued in.
When Al Samīnah Al Faraħ asked to come over for the holiday, I had promised her a fun care-free time.
And I had delivered.
I managed to take her mind off her break up, her ex, and getting acclimated to a life of singleness all over again.
Course, I managed to do that by getting us both smashed.
Al Samīnah Al Faraħ had driven the hour from office to the house Al Samīnah Al Faraħ had grown up in and had arrived to find a sizable amount of alcoholic beverages and liquors spread out across the counter tops.
Never surrendered to me for keeping Alcohol out of their life.
Sometimes, Al Samīnah Al Faraħ thought whether Durgesh is really right.
They wanted to establish Islamic supremacy on Hindus either this way or that way.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was neither nude nor he needed to.
I was nude and serving his extremely beautiful young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Āmnah Azhar with my Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund penetrating her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot profoundly.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was lying on his back on the bed.
Āmnah Azhar wasn’t alone enjoying his such services.
Al Nādirah Al Ghāzī was the everfirst that used her younger brother’s tongue for it.
Then it was Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī, their Ammī.
Then their beautiful Musalmān houseladies.
His tongue was so expert in this service now that he was more popular among needy beautiful Musalmān houseladies and their beautiful Musalmān ladyfriends as a tongue service provider than as a normal man even.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī even enjoyed our Ashvinātam sexual orgasms when our secretions naturally fell into his open mouth.
I knew their activities were not normal.
After Narendr Modi won the election 2014 and became the 15th Prime Minister of India, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s such services were so much in demand that he approached other similar minded Pseudo Musalmīn friends of him and started a regular tongue service providing commercial network.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Sidrah Aħmad and Rājesh Rājpūt were approached, and they delightfully congratulated Al Nādir Al Ghāzī and his similar cuckold Musalmān friends for providing such superb services to Hindus and their Musalmān beloveds.
“It’s a totally new approach. Of course, Durgesh, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, and similar over humane Hindus would never appreciate it, but the Hindu society is not made of such ever impractical persons only.”
“Let’s get you ready,” Lākhan Singh said.
He stood in front of Shamīmah Iftikħār and expertly pulled her nightgown over her head.
Shamīmah Iftikħār couldn’t believe this was happening.
Now Shamīmah Iftikħār was breathing so hard it felt like panting.
Lākhan Singh put his hands on her ankles.
“Relax,” he said.
Then he propped her legs up on the couch so Shamīmah Iftikħār was spread wide open.
Shamīmah Iftikħār ached for release.
Shamīmah Iftikħār had already gotten herself going before, now this was something out of a fantasy.
Shamīmah Iftikħār tried to grab his head and keep it there.
He took her hand and stepped aside.
Shamīmah Iftikħār realized someone was standing there- no, five people.
The crowd outside was now in the house.
He was maybe twenty-five with a smiling, eager face.
Brown hair, average build, and naked.
Shamīmah Iftikħār stared at it.
4-5 inches long.
Her stomach felt tight, her hands shook a little.
He stroked himself for a few seconds, eyes locked on her naked skin.
Shamīmah Iftikħār saw a tiny drop of precum on the tip of its head.
Shamīmah Iftikħār closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing.
This is what Shamīmah Iftikħār wanted, right?
But Shamīmah Iftikħār can’t!
Not like this.
Her breath stopped.
Shamīmah Iftikħār felt Lākhan Singh squeeze her hand again.
Well, that’s what they said was at stake!
Vīr Vikram Pratāp pushed all the way in, then slowly started fucking Shamīmah Iftikħār in a steady rhythm.
Each one felt different.
Each experience was amazing.
Rājesh Rājpūt laughed.
“We Pakistani Sunni Musalmān women love Durgesh, but we hate you, Rājesh Rājpūt! Shankar Mahāpralayankar! Sidrah Aħmad! You are crazy persons. Durgesh is of course radically different from you communal animal Hindus.”
Shankar Mahāpralayankar laughed.
“Rājesh Rājpūt, Shamīmah Iftikħār, the great Pakistani Sunni Musalmān politician loves Durgesh, the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, instead of us. Durgesh is really a miracle. Entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies want to get his Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund into their Musalmān Choots without any single exception even.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī and her ever enthusiast Young Musalmān Lady Brigade is managing it all. they cunningly, shrewdly and intelligently plan to advertise the fantastic attributes of Durgesh’s Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund. I see even every beautiful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot is crazy to get it inside her.”*
It was still dark outside when I opened my eyes.
My Sixty five years old, utmost experienced, utmost talented, ever extraordinary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund was still buried entirely into her still miraculously tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
Alas, Muħammad Naåīm couldn’t give her what I could, neither money, nor sex.
I smiled to myself as I looked at it.
It was the 3rd night of our ten-day vacation in Kashmir valley.
It was the reason Sāliħah Faisal separated herself from Muħammad Naåīm.
“It’s wrong. It’s a sin in Islam.” Muħammad Naåīm had refused Sāliħah Faisal outright.
“Well,” Sāliħah Faisal thundered, “I’m your wife, and I love it.”
Muħammad Naåīm was startled
“Isn’t my ass extraordinarily beautiful?”
“Of course, it is. Of course, it is. But it doesn’t mean…”
“What do you mean ‘Why?’? It’s wrong. It’s a sin.” Muħammad Naåīm was quite surprised.
“I hinted you before our marriage.” Sāliħah Faisal said curtly.
“You said you’d see to it.”
“That’s right, Sāliħah Faisal, but…”
“No but, you promised me. I need it.”
Muħammad Naåīm didn’t oblige her and it brought Sāliħah Faisal ultimately to me.
Still smiling, I quietly slid out of bed and went into the bathroom to relieve myself.
Turning the light back off before I opened the bathroom door into the bedroom, as not to disturb Sāliħah Faisal, I quietly grabbed my robe from the chaise at the foot of the bed and slipped it on.
Opening the door of our room, I quietly crept out and walked down the hall of our dull jheel side condo.
HVSI owned several beautiful enormous structures in Kashmir valley.
I always enjoyed this time of the day.
I enjoyed watching the sunrise before the world awoke and got its day started.
Making sure as not to make any noise and wake the kids up, I put some coffee on.
Once the kids were up our day would be nonstop.
Well, at least when the boys woke up.
My boys from Sāliħah Faisal, Devesh and Shubhesh, were 11 and 9.
Her oldest was Sāliħah Faisal’s daughter, Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm.
She was 19.
Once my coffee was ready, I poured myself a cup and walked to the sliding glass door that lead out to the deck.
I walked out on to the deck, quietly slid the door and closed behind me.
I pulled a chair close to the edge of the deck and sat down in it.
Promptly propping my feet up on the railing in front of me.
I inhaled deeply the aromatic aroma of my coffee before enjoying the first sip.
I was a man at peace.
I owned my own consulting firms under HVSI and it made a good living for my entire families.
My friend, Muħammad Naåīm’s wonderful extremely beautiful wife, of 22 years, Sāliħah Faisal, was a wedding consultant.
Between the two of us, our incomes afforded us opportunities I would have loved to have as a child myself.
As I reflected, I thought about our children.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was 19 and was my girl to the core.
Her own Abbū, Muħammad Naåīm, was a loser in her eyes.
She was sympathetic for him, yet he wasn’t her hero, I was.
A loser can get sympathies, but none wants to be as him.
He was ‘poor Abbū’, as far as Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was concerned.
She had graduated high school the year prior and was just completing her first year of junior college.
I was so proud of her.
No one could deny that Sāliħah Faisal’s oldest was a beauty indeed.
With her stunning looks, she had landed her first modeling gig at sixteen.
At 5’7, she had chocolate brown eyes and they were framed by long spiky lashes.
Her hair that hung just at her shoulder blades was thick and a light honey brown color.
It complemented her flawless creamy coffee complexion.
What made it worse, from a fatherly perspective, was how curvaceously shaped her body was.
Although she modeled, she was no string bean.
I had no idea her exact chest size or clothing size, but I did know that she had very full breasts, a curvy waist and an ass, that when she wore a bikini made men do double takes.
This didn’t bring comfort to me, however.
That was the baby girl they were ogling.
Nevertheless, what surprised me even more was how comfortable Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was with her body.
Not that I wanted Sāliħah Faisal’s daughter, to have a distorted body image, but she was comfortable to the point that around the house she wore things that Sāliħah Faisal would have to remind her to cover up because she had brothers.
At the shore of the jheel, it was even worse.
The back of her bikini bottom, if one could call it that did little to hide her wonderful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān assets.
I always teased her and called her double trouble because she had brains and beauty both.
I would tell her she would be a formidable match for any man.
I didn’t worry as much about Devesh and Shubhesh as I did Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm.
Devesh was more a rough and tumble boy, whereas Shubhesh was the more sensitive one.
I chalked that up to the fact that Shubhesh was definitely an Ammī’s boy through and through.
Sāliħah Faisal babied him almost to a fault.
That was the one area Sāliħah Faisal and I, as parents, disagreed with each other the most.
I felt that she babied Shubhesh too much and was making him too dependent on her.
Sāliħah Faisal felt that I never came to her defense where Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was concerned.
Sāliħah Faisal and Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm butted heads, the older Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm got.
That, however, doesn’t mean that they didn’t have a good mother daughter relationship, but Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm’s fiercely independent spirit definitely had its moments when it clashed with Sāliħah Faisal’s over protective mothering.
When Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm turned 18 and started being a bit less conservative, in her manner of dress, that was when they really started butting heads.
Less conservative meaning her clothes tended to accentuate that body that I was so cautious for her about.
However, I believed Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm to be an adult and she should be allowed to make her own decisions.
I was so lost in my musings that I didn’t seem to notice the time passing and the sky was just starting to lighten.
As my eyes scanned out on the shore of the jheel, I noticed someone out there.
My, I thought, someone’s out here even earlier than I am.
As my eyes focused, the person appeared to be maybe doing yoga out on the shore of the jheel.
It was hard for me to tell.
I leaned a bit forward in my chair and let my eyes focus.
It appeared to be a woman.
She was on her back with her legs tucked under her.
Her back was arched though pushing her chest high into the sky.
Her arms were stretched out beside her and her head resting on the sand.
The light in the sky was lightening up enough that I was starting to see a little clearer.
My eyes widened and my mouth gaped open as I discerned two things at once.
One, the woman wasn’t wearing a bikini top.
I could clearly see the definition of her full breasts.
Her nipples pert and pointing in the air.
But secondly, and more importantly, that woman wasn’t just any woman, it was Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm.
I was dumbfounded.
Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm was topless and doing yoga on the shore of the dull jheel.
As if completely oblivious to me sitting there, Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm got up from the position she’d been lying in.
She stood with her back to me.
I suddenly remembered Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Was Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm doing the same thing?
I, still sitting there now saw that she was not just topless but bottomless as well.
Something in my brain told me to get up and go in the house.
However, I sat there almost paralyzed.
I’d seen Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm’s butt before, but covered a little at least with a bikini bottom.
But now, with her back to me I had a completely unobstructed view, and the view was incredible.
Her cheeks were plump and full. The kind that a man could lose my load over doing her from behind.
I felt a distinct reaction to this thought.
My face didn’t froze, in horror, as I realized looking at Sāliħah Faisal’s daughter’s ass was giving me a hard on.
It was normal for me now.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Just Eighteen Just Adult and Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh movements had made my brain convinced that it was normal for me to lust and have sex with even Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān girls.
If I didn’t oblige them, they turned out to be my bitterest enemy.
While if I obliged them, they were my everbest friends instead.
“It’s a delicate medical matter to take a cherry of a Just Eighteen Just Adult girl.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan argued, “It’s better the everbest sex therapist must do it, instead of an immensely inexperienced new learner.”
I wasn’t startled to find out that their blind followers and fans immediately grabbed it as the utmost important medical necessity.
Without turning back, Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm walked toward the water.
I watched as Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm walked further into the surf.
The further she walked, the more of her body was hidden as it submerged in the water.
I made my getaway into the house when I watched her dunk herself under the water.
Almost in a daze, I made my way back to Sāliħah Faisal and my room. Sāliħah Faisal was just waking up as I walked in.
She smiled at me as I came through the door.
“Hey stud,” she said suggestively, all the while smiling.
Momentarily undecided, I had to pull my thoughts together.
“Good morning sexy,” I said to Sāliħah Faisal as I crawled on to our bed.
Once I settled myself beside Sāliħah Faisal, Sāliħah Faisal pulled herself up on top of my lap and straddled me.
She ground herself against me and was pleased at the reaction she got. Little did she know, though, my reaction wasn’t necessarily due to her grinding against me.
I hadn’t quite recovered from seeing Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm.
I saw the glint in Sāliħah Faisal’s eyes and I knew what she wanted.
I made the gesture to slide my pajama bottoms down and Sāliħah Faisal raised herself up enough for me to do so.
My eyes closed and my breath inhaled as I felt my friend, Muħammad Naåīm’s wonderful extremely beautiful wife, wrap around me.
Opening my eyes, I looked at Sāliħah Faisal and put my index finger in front of my mouth in a “shhh” motion.
Whispering, Sāliħah Faisal asked, “why?”
“”We don’t need the kids to hear,” I whispered back.
“They’re asleep, they’ll never know,” Sāliħah Faisal whispered back with a bit more volume.
I furrowed my brow at her,
“No, they’re not. Ħamd Muħammad Naåīm is awake.”
Sāliħah Faisal’s eyes widened,
She loved how rigid and hard I was as she slammed herself down harder and harder upon it.
Sāliħah Faisal kept this motion up as if endlessly.
Until my eyes signaled to her that, I was about to cum.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Nādirah Al Faizān let out a little moan as Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan kept massaging her proud Musalmān breasts.
“Ya, your twenty eight years old, excellent, young friend, Al Nādirah Al Faizān, sure has a hot Musalmān body, Durgesh. And if you’re lucky enough to get the one that fucks as good as her, you will be set for life!” Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan said out loud, as he pinched her nipples.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān was so turned on, the juices from her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot started running down her legs.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān heard a gasp from me as I heard her moans.
“Al Nādirah Al Faizān, I sure do hope I get that lucky, Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan!” I said.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān looked at me.
I didn’t even bother to take my hand of my now fully hard ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund.
It was so big its head was poking out of the top of my briefs.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān couldn’t take it anymore.
She knew it was going to happen right then.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān reached up, turned the stove off, and thrust her extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass back into the groin of her husband who was also in only his boxers.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt as his hard piece throbbed against her exquisite ardent Musalmān butt.
“You haven’t got now a girl yet, Durgesh?” Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan asked me.
“No, still alone now, Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan!” I said.
That was when Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan whispered in her ear,
“You hear that Hun? You have to take Durgesh’s aloofness! He is so fucking hot!”
Al Nādirah Al Faizān whispered back in her husband’s ear,
“Allah! Oh my God, you are quite right, Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan. Durgesh is so hot, I need to fuck him right now!”
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan kissed her neck, dropped his hands to her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, and stuck a finger deep in her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her moan was loud as Al Nādirah Al Faizān came all over his finger right there in front of me, their ever-infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu!
Al Nādirah Al Faizān heard me gasp.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan said,
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan kept massaging her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and Al Nādirah Al Faizān knew Al Nādirah Al Faizān wasn’t far from orgasm as he dipped two fingers deep inside her folds.
Her moans were strong and loud.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān had given up on putting up a front for me.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān looked over and noticed I was blatantly stroking her ever unyielding, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund now.
It looked so attractive the outline hard and the precum was starting to gather.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān whispered into her husband’s ear that Al Nādirah Al Faizān had to have a taste of mine.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan told Al Nādirah Al Faizān to go ahead for it.
He pulled his fingers out of her dripping cunt and Al Nādirah Al Faizān sauntered over to where I was sitting.
Her eyes were wide with wonder and hope.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān was going to make her greatest fantasies come true as Al Nādirah Al Faizān dropped to her knees and pulled down my damp underwear.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān pulled them to her face and licked the tasty wet spot that had formed on account of me.
My Hindu precum tasted brilliant and Al Nādirah Al Faizān couldn’t wait to taste it from the source.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān grabbed my eight inches hard, thick, ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund and her excellent young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān body responded with a little jump.
My hard, ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund felt so nice and warm in her hand.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān started to stroke it.
Very slowly, her grip traveled up and down my throbbing Uncut Hindu Lund.
When Al Nādirah Al Faizān got to the top of its head, she increased the pressure of her grip and started her journey back down.
This movement caused the eye of my ever unyielding, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund head to open up and let go another teardrop of my Hindu fluid.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān stared for a minute at the glistening drop that had started leaking over the head of my ever-youthful Hindu Prick.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān dropped her head and stuck out her hungry Musalmān tongue, taking her second taste of my salty goodness.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān continued to lick.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān reveled in the cute way my ever unyielding, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund.
It would twitch every time her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tongue tapped its glands.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān was enjoying it very much.
She gripped the base of my Hindu shaft and opened her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth wide.
There was no turning back as Al Nādirah Al Faizān swallowed my Hindu hardness all the way down her Musalmān throat.
The taboo nature of the whole scene had her head spinning and her heart pounding as she increased the speed of her hot wet blowjob on me.
“Your twenty eight years old, excellent, young friend, Al Nādirah Al Faizān, could sure suck your ever unwavering, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund eh, Durgesh?” Al Nādirah Al Faizān heard Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan say as Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt him move in behind her.
“Oh sure, you ain’t lying Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan! But if she doesn’t stop soon I would gonna blow!” I smiled.
My words only encouraged Al Nādirah Al Faizān to go faster.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān wanted to feel my hot Hindu Semen splash in the back of her Musalmān throat.
Her husband noticed her increased vigor and urged me to do just that.
“Ya Durgesh, that is what she wants, she loves to swallow cum! Shoot your hot Hindu cum right down your hot young Musalmān ladyfriend’s throat, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu! Cum right in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth!” Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan impelled me.
His words must have done something to me because in no time I was raising my hips to thrust my ever unyielding, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund deeper in her Musalmān throat.
“OOOOHHH FFFFUUUCCCKK MMMOOOMMM IIIII’MMM CUUUUMMMINGGG RRRRIIGGHHTTT DDDOOWWNN YOOUURR TTTTTHHRRROOAAT!!!!” I smiled triumphantly proudly.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān didn’t miss a drop and lavished in her taste.
After Al Nādirah Al Faizān swallowed all my Hindu juice Al Nādirah Al Faizān got up off her knees.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt her husband press her body against me from behind,
His hand once again found her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and drove his fingers in deep.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān looked down and saw me staring at Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan’s finger sliding in and out of her soaked young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
My ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund never lost its hardness and started twitching again from the site.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan’s finger felt fantastic sliding in and out of her hot young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and soon Al Nādirah Al Faizān was moving her hips back and forth to match the rhythm of his finger fucking.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān then pulled the slinky silk nightdress over her head and made herself completely naked.
Grabbing my head Al Nādirah Al Faizān pulled him to her ever-erect proud Musalmān breast to make me kiss her there.
I accepted her tit and kissed it passionately.
The combination of my mouth kissing at her nipple and her husband’s skilled finger deep in her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was too much for Al Nādirah Al Faizān to take and soon her whole body began to shake.
Her foot started tapping like a dog when you scratch the special spot on the body and her knees grew weak as she exploded her hot young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot juice all over her husband’s hand.
Her cum was so intense when it finally subsided I noticed Al Nādirah Al Faizān had left a puddle on the kitchen floor.
It was a great feeling but Al Nādirah Al Faizān wanted and needed more.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan could tell it was the time for Al Nādirah Al Faizān to get properly fucked.
“Well, why don’t we all go up to our bedroom and finish this off, right?”
Al Nādirah Al Faizān heard Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan proclaim and Al Nādirah Al Faizān couldn’t have agreed more!
The three of us hurried up to the bedroom.
When we got there, her husband and I both stripped off what little clothing we had.
His cut Musalmān noonī was just begging for attention, while my ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund was demanding it authoritatively.
For a couple of seconds we all seemed to be frozen in our lust and just stood there looking at each other.
Her husband quickly fixed the situation and took control.
“Hun, why don’t you lie down and let Durgesh fuck that sweet young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot of yours?” He said, and in a lustful trance, Al Nādirah Al Faizān got on the bed and spread her legs for me.
“Come on Durgesh, and stick that nicest hard ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund in the ardent Musalmān houselady!” Al Nādirah Al Faizān cried to me.
I immediately got between her legs and gripped my ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund aiming it at her wet Musalmān hole.
Her orgasm ripped through her body as soon as my ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund entered her Panjvaqtah Namāzī young twenty eight years old Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
For a minute, Al Nādirah Al Faizān was in disbelief.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān couldn’t believe that a simple suggestion from her husband had actually led to the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu actually penetrating her wet young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with my ever-hottest Hindu prick.
Her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot gripped my ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund extremely greedily hungrily and soon I was fucking Al Nādirah Al Faizān fast.
Her eyes were wide with excitement.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān pulled her husband’s head down to her tit as my ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund continued to thrust deep into her twenty eight years old young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān was immensely grateful to her ever-nice Musalmān husband that he never disturbed us for our seven hours nonstop fuck session.
Allah, what a session!
What a Lund!
Durgesh really was the ever best.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān found herself first time entirely fucked as much as she had dreamed of ever.
Her beautiful Musalmān ladyfriends were right.
Durgesh’s ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund was itself a festival into a Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, Eīdul Fitr, Mīlādunnabī, everything.
None could compete with Durgesh in it.
He was the number one Sex Champion once.
He held out his tongue and thrust it forward to her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
His hot tongue felt wonderful in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth and it didn’t take her long to find a good rhythm with my fucking and her sucking.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan sucked harder on her nipple and Al Nādirah Al Faizān sucked harder through her twenty eight years old young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot on my ever stanch, ever incredible, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān could feel another orgasm building up.
She slid her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot faster over my ever determined, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost talented, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund.
She started moaning when she began to shake from the incredible orgasm that tore through her body.
Once again her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot gushed her womanly Musalmān juice, this time though it wasn’t wasted on the kitchen floor but instead soaked the Uncut Hindu Lund of her wonderful Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.
I just kept thrusting my ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost talented, outstanding, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund harder and harder.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān wanted to change things up a bit, so Al Nādirah Al Faizān pulled her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth off of Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan’s cut Musalmān noonī.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan seemed disappointed at first but Al Nādirah Al Faizān soon explained what Al Nādirah Al Faizān wanted to do.
“Durgesh, get on your back, I want to ride that stunning ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund of yours!” Al Nādirah Al Faizān said.
I smiled proudly triumphantly and followed her direction.
Soon Al Nādirah Al Faizān was riding her Anant Muslimātchod Hindu’s hard Hindu prick.
Up and down, Al Nādirah Al Faizān drove on my ever-youthful, sixty-five years old, Hindu meat.
It filled her in a completely different way.
My ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund was so deep in her twenty eight years old young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot that as Al Nādirah Al Faizān drove her hips down on it, it impaled herself.
It was then that Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt the most amazing feeling as her husband made her way behind her and spread her extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass.
As Al Nādirah Al Faizān continued to fuck me, her husband started licking her tight Musalmān asshole and he sent Al Nādirah Al Faizān into another orgasm.
“Allah, Allah! Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah! Fuck Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan, yes! Tongue my hot Musalmān ass for the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, Durgesh’s ever resolute, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost accomplished, unique, magnificent, Uncut Hindu Lund after this vaginal session! Yes, this is so fucking hot. Durgesh’s ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund in my young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and my Musalmān husband’s tongue in my extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass! We are joining now Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s ever precious Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement. Now we can claim for its benefits Modern Democratic Årabia offers. YESSS I’MMM CUMMMING AGGGAIIIN!” Al Nādirah Al Faizān shouted.
Now Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan was on his back, Al Nādirah Al Faizān was riding him on his mouth and I was behind her.
Her hands gently pushed me forward on my ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Then Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt my ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund at the opening of her slick Musalmān ass.
The feeling was indescribable as I pushed forward.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān could feel her insides filling completely, as I thrust inch after inch of my hard ever stout, ever unbelievable, sixty-five years old, utmost proficient, matchless, wonderful, Uncut Hindu Lund deep into her extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass.
When I finally got to the base I stopped for a minute and then started to slowly slide it back out.
The sensation of having both of her holes filled by the two men that Al Nādirah Al Faizān loved the most was probably the greatest physical feeling Al Nādirah Al Faizān had ever experienced.
Soon Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan and I found a rhythm.
We would both exit her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān holes at the same time leaving her feeling totally empty only to thrust back inside her at the same time to make Al Nādirah Al Faizān feel completely and utterly full.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān didn’t even move and let us do all the work.
She just relished in the amazing feelings torching her extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass and young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“Allah! Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah! Oh God, YES…FUCK MG EXTREMELY BEAUTIFUL, YOUNG, ROUNDED, GORGEOUS, GLAMOROUS, PANJVAQTAH NAMĀZĪ PERFECT FIRM MUSALMĀN ASS AND YOUNG PANJVAQTAH NAMĀZĪ RAVENOUS SAÅŪDĪ ÅRAB WAHĀBĪ MUSALMĀN CHOOT!! ALLAH, AL NĀDIRAH AL FAIZĀN IS GOING TO CUMMMM AGAIN! YES…CUM IN MY EXTREMELY BEAUTIFUL, YOUNG, ROUNDED, GORGEOUS, GLAMOROUS, PANJVAQTAH NAMĀZĪ PERFECT FIRM MUSALMĀN ASS AND TONGUE MY YOUNG PANJVAQTAH NAMĀZĪ SAÅŪDĪ ÅRAB WAHĀBĪ MUSALMĀN CHOOT! YES FUCK ME HARDER AND CUM WITH ME, MY WONDERFUL MEN!” Al Nādirah Al Faizān yelled.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt both of us thrust deep into her two Musalmān holes and heard me declare triumphantly proudly,
“Yes…cummmingg up your young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Ass Mmoooooommmmm!”
“Meeeee toooooooo!” Her husband shouted, “Out in the air.”
I smiled, once more announcing triumphantly,
Al Nādirah Al Faizān felt as her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ravenous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was filled by her own husband’s ever-expert Musalmān tongue, and a great Hindu warmth washed deep in her extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass as I followed suit.
Her orgasm ripped through her body and her cum shot out of her young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot like a fire hose on full blast filling her husband, Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan’s welcoming mouth nonstop.
The three of us collapsed embracing each other tightly.
Her first Ashvinātam experience couldn’t have been any hotter or any more fulfilling.
Her husband and Al Nādirah Al Faizān were hooked on our newfound taboo.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān wondered for a second what it might be like if they brought their Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān daughter too, in on the act, and made a mental note to talk to Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan about it later on.
Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan was already licking her extremely beautiful, young, rounded, gorgeous, glamorous, Panjvaqtah Namāzī perfect firm Musalmān ass cleaning it of my wonderful Hindu semen, with his ever-expert Musalmān tongue.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān smiled triumphantly proudly at Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan.
I watched both of them gravely.
Al Nādirah Al Faizān had successfully cuckolded Aurangzeb Muħammad Ħasan to herself and me.
More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had been the Director of Security through all Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Seven Movements.
It would certainly have been a backbreaking job if I were not fucking her constantly.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan enjoyed my Uncut Hindu Lund continuously constantly into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot nonstop.
She never knew she needed sex that much with me.
Today almost entire Creations were against Pseudo Musalmīn terrorism.
They were killing the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists everywhere openly attacking them.
Since Narendr Modi had become the Prime Minister of India, not even a single Pseudo Musalmān terrorist had succeeded in entering India.
Everyone of them was either killed on the spot when trying to enter, or worse.
S/he was arrested alive.
“Sit down, Saifunnisā.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan said, “Let’s keep this on a friendly basis if we can.”
Saifunnisā Al Islam hooked both her thumbs in her sash and remained standing.
“Friendly? With a traitor?”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had anticipated it.
She pushed her beautiful nude Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my nude lap, swallowed my entire Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and smiled patronizing Saifunnisā Al Islam.
“With an accused traitor.” She corrected her, “You are a Councilwoman. I’m sure you understand the wide difference between a traitor and an accused traitor. Don’t you?”*
Saifunnisā Al Islam watched Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan cunningly.
“Director of Security, Modern Democratic Årabia, you know very well that you haven’t come to the point where accusation, even by the Kħātoon-e-Jannat Hazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu Tåālā ånahā reincarnated, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, herself, is the equivalent of conviction. I trust you never do. Your job is to clear me if you can. You would do so now while no harm is done, except to my pride, rather than be forced to make it all a matter of a public trial. You hope I’m with you in this.”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan understood the situation perfectly she was dealing with.
Saifunnisā Al Islam wasn’t an ordinary Councilwoman of the House of the People of Modern Democratic Årabia.
She was a learned young woman.
It was not easy to deal with Saifunnisā Al Islam.
Yet, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan herself wasn’t an ordinary young woman.
She wasn’t Director of Security, Modern Democratic Årabia, because she was the elder sister of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan had earned this prestigious post through her own hard work and achievements.
“Let’s not bother with ingratiation. You asked for it.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan said politely, yet authoritatively, “You had witnessed what happened even to Imām Muħammad Ħasan when he challenged the authority of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. Yet you did the same. Definitely you never expected you could get away with it.”*
Saifunnisā Al Islam smiled ironically.
“I thought we are in a democratic system.”
“Sure,” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan herself said ironically too, “But you are against it. You want to fail our democracy.”
“That’s the accusation, I think.” Saifunnisā Al Islam again ridiculed Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan.
“You still think you can face the charges of treason against you?”
Saifunnisā Al Islam said contemptuously.
“I want to expose you all. No democracy is being practiced here. If it were democracy here really, you were not establishing Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah here.”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan smiled at Saifunnisā Al Islam ridiculing her.
“I hope you are intelligent enough to understand neither you have majority here, nor your supporters. The majority of Modern Democratic Årabia is not with you.”
“That’s what you think,”
“That’s what I know.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan smiled triumphantly confidently, “Even your Love Jihad has failed everywhere miserably. Each and every attempt of it is immediately detected everywhere before even a single success in it. The Pseudo Musalmīn culprits are losing their manhood forever as soon as they even imagine even to deceive the innocent non-Muslim girls. It’s not old times now. It’s Infinite BrāhmKalp, Sanā Kr’tyug. The sooner you understand the sooner you can save the manhood of the remaining Pseudo Musalmīn.”
“We refuse to let Yogi Āditýnāth be the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said determinedly.
“Who are you to decide who will be the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh? Are you a citizen of India?” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan looked at Saifunnisā Al Islam contemptuously.*
Yogi Bhāskarnāth was unable to understand how he could get rid of the ever-crazy Mujāhidāt that were having sex with him constantly on this or that pretext.
They just made him lie on his back undressed and straddled him one by one, fucking Yogi Bhāskarnāth despite his every effort to avoid it.
“We would never let you complete your Celibacy Practice, your so called Brahmcharý Sādhnā.” Al Jihad fil Islam said fucking Yogi Bhāskarnāth aggressively, “We don’t want another Yogi Āditýnāth.”
Yogi Bhāskarnāth could not do anything, except to lie there on his back and let them fuck him.
He understood actually, their Pseudo Musalmīn terrorist husbands had either lost their manhood completely, or losing their interest in sexual intercourse itself.
“Young ladies, you never understood our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā.” Yogi Bhāskarnāth said, “You don’t want to let us become another Yogi Āditýnāth. But our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā, doesn’t require other persons cooperation too. Even if you keep fucking us endlessly, our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā, would never be discontinued. We aren’t having sex with you. You are having sex with us. We aren’t responsible for what you are doing with us. Our Celibacy Practice, our Brahmcharý Sādhnā, is discontinued only when we ourselves have sex with you.”*
Saifunnisā Al Islam looked at Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan.
“We aren’t fighting for democracy in Uttar Pradesh, India. We are fighting for Islam.”
“And Islam is against democracy?”
“Democracy isn’t Islam.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said curtly.
“On the contrary, Islam revived democracy in then Årab.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot. “Al Qur’an Al Karīm never claimed Islam was a new religion. It was the same religion Hindus call Hinduism, Hindutv, adjusted properly to suit then Årab environment.”
“I don’t agree with you.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said contemptuously, “You love Hindu Lund entirely unashamed of you. That’s why you are resorting to these un-Islamic philosophies.”
“And you don’t love Hindu Lund?”
“Never. I hate Hindu Lund instead, on the quite contrary.”
“And that’s why you yourself went to Durgesh and fucked him.” Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan laughed sarcastically.
“That’s not the same thing you do.” Saifunnisā Al Islam said scornfully, “We need money for our Al Jihad fil Islam. Durgesh is the utmost richest multi zillionaire of our times. He is a moron to think he can change us from an Islamist into a so-called humanist. We challenge him to do it with us. The fact is Durgesh isn’t changing us. Instead, the more Durgesh fuck us Mujāhidāt the more he is converted to Islam.”
“And that’s why you so called Mujāhidāt keep fucking Durgesh?”
“Why shouldn’t we?”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan smiled.
“I never said you shouldn’t. I said what you are doing is actually itself establishing Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. Have you ever realized it?”
Saifunnisā Al Islam smiled cunningly.
“Keep living in fools’ paradise as much as you please, Director of Security, Modern Democratic Årabia. We aren’t doing any such thing. Nevertheless, if you really think we are too establishing your dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, why the hell you call me a traitor? Are we not doing the same thing you are doing either knowingly or unknowingly?”
Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan looked at me complaining.
“Durgesh, you’ve fucked these so called Mujāhidāt too much. They are capable to argue rationally too.”
I smiled cunningly.
“Well, you can’t blame me, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan, they are too beautiful to resist. Aren’t they?”
“Damn you, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā.”
Saifunnisā Al Islam and I both laughed.
I looked at Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan gravely.
“Don’t blame me for it ever, Al Tawaħīd Al Muħammad Al Ħasan. I’d never stop it. Whatsoever the reason a woman has, or says to have, for having sex with me, the fact that she is having sex with me makes me her husband according to my morals.”
“We Hindus believe in Vivāhāshŧakam and Ashŧmaithunam. I think it’s more humane to believe in these two principles. If you don’t agree with me, try to convince me why isn’t it so.”*
Shankar Mahāpralayankar rose from the blackjack table, smiled all round, threw the pretty croupier a large tip, and pocketed twenty gold five hundred dollar chips.
Ten thousand dollars.
Not bad for a fast half hour’s work while Fātimah Al Wahāb was sucking his Uncut Hindu Lund.
Durgesh never appreciated Shankar Mahāpralayankar for humiliating Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists even.
Let him not.
The humiliation of Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists pleased Shankar Mahāpralayankar always.
Fātimah Al Wahāb was still sucking Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s Uncut Hindu Lund shamefully.
She couldn’t do anything.
Numerous females, houseladies of members of al-Qaeda, were forced to suck Uncut Hindu Lund publicly, not of Shankar Mahāpralayankar only, but other Hindus’ as well.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar and his followers were challenging not only Ayman al Zawahiri , his entire al-Qaeda instead.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar surveyed the crowded Las Vegas casino.
His dark eyes flicked back and forth amongst the assembled company.
The beautiful Musalmān houseladies in floral dresses exhibited surprising strength as their beautiful arms pulled firmly on the slot machines.
Florid faced couples, Hindu male Musalmān female strictly, none else, filled with excitement, picked up a fast eighty or ninety dollars at the roulette tables.
Strolling beautiful Musalmān houseladies of the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists, blank eyes alert for the big spender Hindus.
The big spender Hindus themselves, in polyester leisure suits, screeched away in Middle American accents at the crap tables.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled.
Las Vegas always amused him.
They always cooperated whenever Shankar Mahāpralayankar wanted to humiliate Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists publicly in this way.
The hustle and the bustle.
The win and the loss.
The total fantasy of it all.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar loved to fuck Musalmān houseladies of the criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists right from the beginning.
As soon as he was capable of having sex, he enjoyed it with them too much.
“Never!” Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled cunningly even then.
“Stop it, I say,”
“You know why.”
“I don’t,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar said notoriously, smiling.
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar, no. I mean it, No!”
“Why not, you like it you say.”
“I don’t, I don’t. Oh, Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Ooooooh!”
It was always the same story.
No, Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Don’t do it, Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Don’t touch me there, Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Yet, the story always had a happy ending.
As soon as Shankar Mahāpralayankar found the magic button, the Musalmān houseladies of the criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists stopped protesting.
The beautiful nude Musalmān legs opened in invitation and they hardly noticed when Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s immensely experienced fie upstanding Uncut Hindu Lund penetrated their Musalmān Choots
Shankar Mahāpralayankar, the Muslimātchod Hindu, was his nickname.
It was true that after Durgesh, Shankar Mahāpralayankar was the second ever successful young Hindu man that had screwed more Musalmān ass than anyone else, including Musalmīn even.
Even the Musalmīn were jealous of Durgesh and Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled when the Pseudo Musalmīn praised Durgesh in comparison with him.
Al Åbd Al Wahāb was the first Shankar Mahāpralayankar fucked in his ass when he praised Durgesh in comparison with him.
“Sālé, praising your Hindu father? Or your Hindu Jījū? Durgesh is fucking both your Ammīs and sisters now.”
Al Åbd Al Wahāb cried helplessly.
“Because you forced me to request Durgesh to fuck them. Otherwise, you and your ever communal Hindus had molested them. Neither I had another option, nor did my Musalmān houseladies.”
“How do you feel when you lick the optimum fucked Musalmān Cunts and Musalmān ass of your beautiful Musalmān houseladies, Al Åbd Al Wahāb?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar pushed his Uncut Hindu Lund again entirely into the ever feminine Musalmān ass of Al Åbd Al Wahāb.
Al Åbd Al Wahāb was feeling himself immensely humiliated.
Yet he couldn’t do anything.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was more powerful and he had every evidence against him.
If the police had those evidences, Al Åbd Al Wahāb was certainly hanged till his death.
He never wanted to die.
What’s wrong even if Durgesh is fucking his entire beautiful Musalmān houseladies?
Wasn’t that they themselves wanted to?
Abbū, Al Qahar Arraħīm Al Wahāb, was a devoted Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān.
Yet, what happened with him?
Osama bin Laden was killed but Abbū was captured by Shankar Mahāpralayankar, himself.
Osama bin Laden was born on 10 March 1957.
Abbū was entire ten years older than Osama bin Laden.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar deliberately captured Abbū alive and blackmailed his family and followers to immense degradation and humiliations.
It was still continued.
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar, no!”
“Aw, c’mon, Al Qamar Annisā’. Let me just put it there, just next to you. I won’t put it in, I promise I won’t!”
“But Shankar Mahāpralayankar!”
“There. I told you. Doesn’t that feel good?”
“Mmmm, I guess. But don’t move, promise you won’t move.”
“’Course not. I just want to be next to you, that’s all.” Gently Shankar Mahāpralayankar eased his Hindu prick inside her Musalmān Cunt.
“What are you doing?” Al Qamar Annisā’ squealed.
“Just getting comfortable,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar replied, easing his hand down between her legs, feeing for the magic button.
Al Qamar Annisā’ gave a little sigh.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar had found it.
“Feel nice?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar inquired solicitously.
“Oh, yes, Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Oh, yes.”
Keeping his fingers on target, Shankar Mahāpralayankar started to screw Al Qamar Annisā’ properly.*
Al Qamar Annisā’ didn’t object.
Instead, she smiled cunningly.
She wasn’t stupid enough not to know what Shankar Mahāpralayankar was doing.
After all Al Qamar Annisā’ was a mujāhidah of al-Qaeda.
She understood more than even the other members of al-Qaeda suspected.
She knew it wasn’t any Al Jihad fil Islam at all.
It was an outright Årab Imperialism.
If it was really an Al Jihad fil Islam, why the Islamic State of Al Baghdadi is trying to defeat al-Qaeda in Pseudo Islamic terrorism?
Right from the moment Ħazrat Muåāwiyah started to send strategic news of Al Jihad fil Islam to the Kħalīfah, Caliph in power those days, the downfall of Islam and the rise of Pseudo Islam had started.
No, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah never reported anything wrong.
He reported actually what Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd did.
Yet, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah never reported in detail what positive Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd did.
He reported in quite detail what wrong Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd ever did.
It was never a wrong reporting.
Yet, it was never an entirely unbiased reporting too.
It was a very clever, very shrewd strategic reporting that ultimately resulted in the removal of Saifullah Ħazrat Kħālid bin Walīd.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar knew how to please a woman that was so devoted to her cause.
He had been taught by Durgesh himself how to find the magic button.
It was a lesson Shankar Mahāpralayankar was forever grateful for.
It gave him an edge over the other Hindus.
Right from the beginning of the era when Ħazrat Muåāwiyah was coming into power, it was a game of cats, dogs and rats, whether strategic or entirely unashamed open.
No, Ħazrat Muåāwiyah himself never promoted the persons who were involved in kidnapping and selling of beautiful Musalmān houseladies to Hindus.
The Hindus were living in India that was called Golden Bird then.*
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was proud of himself for being at least second Hindu the beautiful Musalmān houseladies of criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists were crazy of.
Durgesh was the first, no doubt.
Nevertheless, his morals were somewhat different from Durgesh.
Even numerous of his Hindu friends and followers thought all there was to screwing beautiful Musalmān houseladies of criminal/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn and terrorists was a fast shove.
After Durgesh, Shankar Mahāpralayankar also knew it was just as important to make them like it, want it, and even beg for it.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was proud of Al Qamar Annisā’ that she laughed when her family disowned her.
“I sympathize with my family persons.” Al Qamar Annisā’ smiled now fucking Shankar Mahāpralayankar herself.
“As I do?” Al Sidrah Al Aħmad smiled proudly with utmost conference in herself.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar laughed.
“The reasons are different, Al Sidrah Al Aħmad.”
“I know.” Al Sidrah Al Aħmad smiled bravely, “You too are against my life style. Nevertheless, I’m neither discouraged nor even a bit ashamed of it.”
Professor Doctor Rām Chandr Shukl was fucking Al Sidrah Al Aħmad now.
Despite the fact that Professor Doctor Rām Chandr Shukl never appreciated the life style Al Sidrah Al Aħmad had adopted he believed in the freedom for everyone, including Al Sidrah Al Aħmad too, of course.
He had read the Renouncement of Al Sidrah Al Aħmad by her family ultimately.
Unlike Al Qamar Annisā’ Al Sidrah Al Aħmad’s family didn’t disown her immediately.
Her family gave her even more than fifty years to return to the basic moral values of Islam.
Yet Al Sidrah Al Aħmad never cared for it.
She continued to live her ever-irresponsible life towards her family reputation.
Al Sidrah Al Aħmad continued to fuck every Hindu male she came in contact even if he was a peon, driver, servant, whatsoever the hell that Hindu male was.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The June morning dawned bright and warm.
It was a beautiful day for a wedding.
I had set my alarm for 6 a.m.
My criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson, Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, was getting married today.
Despite Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī’s every effort, she could not make her ever-stupid son to see the changing environment of the globe.
He wasn’t ever a member of any terrorist group, nevertheless he never found anything irreligious in any of that anti justice anti human organizations.
Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī decided not to marry him ever until he isn’t human at least somewhat.
Nevertheless, Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī’s scheme again backfired.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār loved Al Nādir Al Ghāzī, as he was himself now.
“You do understand he can join any terrorist group anytime,” Al Waħīdah Al Ghāzī told Al Jihad Al Vaqār curtly, “Don’t you?”
“I doubt it, Ammī.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār cooed, “Al Nādir Al Ghāzī didn’t join them when it was easier for the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists to survive and succeed. Now, Narendr Modī is in power in India. Have you forgotten what Narendr Modī did in Gujarat with these bloody Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists?”*
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled confidently.
The bloody Alkuffār.
Everyone is thinking Islam has lost forever.
Hindutv is in power now.
Not Narendr Modī.
No doubt, the Hindu scoundrel is lucky.
Every effort to kill Narendr Modī has backfired till now, without any exception.
There are millions of Musalmīn.
How many of them the Hindus can arrest?
How many of them the Hindus can hang till they don’t die?
He had proposed to kill Nawaz Sharif in India, at least, if not Narendr Modī.
However, none listened to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī.
They think Al Nādir Al Ghāzī is stupid.
Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun!
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī sat at the wheel of the marvelous green seat of his Station Wagon.
The Indian Mujahidin are too afraid of Narendr Modī.
They think he is immortal now.
Nonsense, no one is immortal.
Let Al Nādir Al Ghāzī kill the root, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, first.
It was Imām Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her ever unashamed shameless Musalmān lady brigade that always protect Hindus.
They always betray Musalmīn.
The persons like Jāved Akħtar, Salīm, etcetera have surrendered to Hindus already.
It’s not important what they say.
They have to do it for their own survival.
Kalma-e-kufr is allowed in Islam to self survival if there isn’t another option.
Islam isn’t a dīn of stupidity, irrespective of what the foolish Al Kuffār say.*
I got out of the hotel bed, and walked into the bathroom to get showered before seven.
According to the plan of the bride and groom, each one would share a wedding day breakfast with the other’s parents.
In this case, it meant that Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s bride-to-be, Al Jihad Al Vaqār, would be having breakfast, with me, in my hotel room, and Al Nādir Al Ghāzī would have breakfast with Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s parents, Al Jalāl Al Wahāb and Al Qahar Al Īmān.
I was grave for my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
He was marrying a great girl.
It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful from head to toe either.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār was a 26 year old interior decorator who’d met Al Nādir Al Ghāzī through mutual friends.
The attraction was immediate and after 2 years of courtship, he’d asked her to be his wife.
I slipped on a pair of loose fitting sweats and a casual t-shirt.
A knock on the door announced that room service was there.
The bellhop wheeled a cart in filled with different covered trays.
Quickly and quietly the bellhop set the table up for two.
I paid him a tip and he left.
I lifted the lids of each dish and found Belgian waffles under one, strawberries under another, a bowl of whipped cream, scrambled eggs on a plate, and sausages under another.
A carafe of coffee and a bottle of orange juice completed the meal.
I imagined Al Jihad Al Vaqār wouldn’t be too hungry, as is, having wedding day jitters.
But just in case, I’d made sure I ordered a good breakfast.
Promptly at 7 a.m., there was a knock on my hotel room door.
I answered it and there stood my knockout beautiful, soon to be ‘daughter in law’, Al Jihad Al Vaqār.
“Good morning, dad,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār said as she smiled, leaned in and kissed me on my cheek.
I invited her in and ushered her over to the table of waiting food.
I pulled her chair out for her as she sat down.
I took the chair across from her.
Like me, Al Jihad Al Vaqār was very casually dressed for this hour of the morning.
She wore a thick bathrobe under which she wore a short cream colored chemise with boy shorts.
“Would it bother you terribly if I took my robe off, dad?” Al Jihad Al Vaqār asked.
“Of course not Al Jihad Al Vaqār, get comfortable girl.” I replied.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār stood up and took the robe off.
She walked the robe over to the coat rack by the door and hung it there.
I was mesmerized as I watched her walk over to hang the robe up.
I’d never seen Al Jihad Al Vaqār in anything other than classy suits or blue jeans.
The chemise she wore was soft ivory and hung just below the cheeks of her excellent heavy plump luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān butt.
Her legs were long and slender and she was very shapely.
When she turned and walked back towards the table, even I had to catch my breath.
The front of the chemise was cut low and rested on the top of her breasts that were full and filled out the front of the chemise.
I could actually see her beautiful nipples poking through the fabric.
She was one beautiful Musalmān woman I thought again.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled as she sat down across from me.
She enjoyed a good relationship with her soon to be father in law.
I’d made her feel like part of the family from the start.
I razzed her just as much as I did Al Nādir Al Ghāzī and my 3 other Musalmān stepsons.
She’d always admired me.
She also found me very attractive.
Even far more attractive, far more romantic and far sexier than her soon to be husband was.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was a handsome man, but he looked more like his mother than his father.
More feminine than masculine.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī’s hair was sandy brown like his mother’s, as well as having his mother’s green eyes.
My hair was a dark black, and I was not even starting to grey at my temples, as some men in my age did.
My eyes too were black and framed by spiky long lashes.
Even in my medium height, I stood a full 3 inches taller than my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
I stood up and started to remove the lids from the food.
“I didn’t know what you’d want, but I knew you liked Belgian waffles so I ordered them and all of this. I hope you’re hungry, young lady.” I smiled warmly at Al Jihad Al Vaqār. “Would you like me to make the bride a plate?”
Al Jihad Al Vaqār smiled back at me,
“Actually Dad, I am hungry, but my nerves are a little edgy. May we just sit and talk for a little bit before we eat? It will calm my nerves.”
“Sure hon'” I said, “C’mon, come sit on the bed and we’ll chat like friends.” I smiled.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār and I got comfortable on the bed.
I sat with my back against the headboard and Al Jihad Al Vaqār sat cross-legged in front of me.
“Is that better?” I asked.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār laughed at my friendly remark and said,
“This is fine, dad.”
She sat there looking at me and couldn’t explain the weird feeling coming over her.
I was sitting there smiling at her and she had this unexplainable urge to kiss me.
How incredible it was.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her entire Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad always said,
“No beautiful woman, irrespective of her age, can ever resist Durgesh’s infinite masculine charms. Durgesh complains that no woman let him continue ever a platonic relationship with her. But how the hell can anyone? Durgesh has infinite Bhogchakr.”
Is it true?
Al Jihad Al Vaqār laughed.
She never believed in the ever ridiculous Bhogchakr theory of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her Musalmān lady brigade.
It was a nonsense.*
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī had parked his station wagon from the Iron Gate at the entrance of the massive Ashvinātam Masjid.
He kept an eye on the University young ladies and even mature Musalmān beautiful ladies going inside for Al Fajir mass.
It was the tenth and last day of their Ijlās.
If their quarry arrived today, as he had the previous nine mornings, the pattern was set.
They would place the dynamite in the tunnel beneath the street tonight.
They would detonate the explosives and assassinate their tremendously scorned enemy, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, the founder of HLMCIC.
Hindu Lund Musalmān Choot International Clubs.
Let the ever-democratic scoundrel go to hell.
Even if they couldn’t kill Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan the so called Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā reincarnated due to her immensely incredible black magic powers, they could kill at least her immensely respected Abbū, the devil incarnate,
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī peered at his wristwatch.
“You’d better go in now,” he said quietly to the young lady in the front seat beside him. “If the bastard is on schedule, he should be here in five minutes.”
“Do I have to?” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī smiled devilishly, “What purpose? He’d never get to the damn Masjid, Ashvinātam Masjid, hunh, tomorrow morning.”
“For positive identification,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled cunningly, “They want to fuck our muqaddas, pious, Pāk, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ladies. Let them. Who the hell are more pious than the Mujāhidāt themselves? Hindu scoundrels, fuck Mujāhidāt and be damned. Our Mujāhidāt would keep you busy 24×7 in sex with them. They’d give birth to your Hindu sons who would be the Mujāhidīn next generation, as we are.”
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan has planned to expose us to the true Musalmīn, as he calls them.” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī smiled sarcastically.
“True Musalmīn? Who support the ever coward Hindus?” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī smiled curtly.
“Now they are in power, don’t forget.”
“I won’t, ever,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said bitterly. “I want you to see him close up. We’ve got to be certain he is Al Saåīd Al Qādir, the deputy prime minister in charge of defense, and no other. Go ahead, Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī, it’s the last time.”
“Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun,”
“Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun,”
They never said, “Allah Ħāfiz,”
They always said, ‘Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun’, instead.
It was their code somewhat even.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was nineteen only, while Al Nādir Al Ghāzī was twenty nine already.
“Fa qatulū almusharikīn,” Al Nādir Al Ghāzī said.
“Ħaysu wajadttumūhum.” Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī said.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī watched her leave the car, cross over, and reach the landing below the massive Masjid door.
Al Mujāhidah Al Ghāzī fell in among other worshipers at the steps, climbing up and going inside the Masjid.*
Al Jihad Al Vaqār tried to dispel the thought from her mind, but it wouldn’t shake.
Even worse, her thoughts started getting more provocative about me.
I sat there a little thoughtful by the strange look on Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s face.
One moment she’d been smiling at me and now she was sitting there staring at me with this peculiar look.
“Al Jihad Al Vaqār, are you okay?” I said in a concerned voice.
As if in a daze, Al Jihad Al Vaqār got up on her knees and inched herself intimately close to me.
Without saying a word, she placed her extremely beautiful red crimson luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips on mine and tenderly kissed me.
Inhaling she could take in my masculine Hindu scent and her kiss became a little more searching as her tongue pried its way between my lips.
Now I fully understood the weird look on Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s face, but what I didn’t understand was why in the hell was I returning her kiss?
She was about to marry my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
Oh how her mouth was warm sweet though.
I sucked her extremely beautiful red crimson luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān lips in between mine while my hands began to explore what was under the chemise.
Right before my eyes, Al Jihad Al Vaqār raised the chemise above and over her head and threw it on the floor.
Her breasts were stunning.
My mouth watered just looking at them.
My hands reached out for them and I grasped and caressed them.
No words were spoken as passion overtook the both of us.
We both knew what our actions were leading up to, but as if possessed by a hunger we couldn’t explain we didn’t stop.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār, only in her boy shorts straddled My lap and began to kiss me again.
Our kiss was hungry and passionate.
My cock was hard and I could feel it pressing against Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s pussy.
I grabbed a hand full of her excellent heavy plump luscious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass and pulled her even closer to me as we kissed.
Pushing myself away from the headboard, I laid Al Jihad Al Vaqār down in front of me.
Staring at her sexy body, I removed my t-shirt and stripped my sweats off.
My Uncut Hindu Cock was long, thick and very erect as my sweats came off.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār started to slide her boy shorts down, when I took over and slid them completely off for her.
Smiling at her, I bowed my head down and inhaled her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
It was warm and musky.
Easing myself down between her legs, I spread them apart.
Her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy was beautifully shaven.
Wrapping my mouth fully over it, I kissed it passionately.
My lips ravaged her.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks bucked under me and her hands pressed my head deeper into her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Yes, Durgesh, kiss me, kiss me there.” Al Jihad Al Vaqār huskily whispered.
I drove Al Jihad Al Vaqār wild when I kissed across her clit.
I loved this.
At this moment, I did not care that Al Jihad Al Vaqār was about to marry my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson.
She had chosen to allow me this privilege and I sure as hell wasn’t going to pass it up.
Let the anti-human Pseudo Musalmān terrorist suffer, even if he was my stepson.
Let him get punished.
I knew once with me, Al Jihad Al Vaqār would never return to Al Nādir Al Ghāzī completely.
She could never forget the immense sexual bliss she would get from me.
Al Nādir Al Ghāzī couldn’t give its ten percent even.
Pressing my head hard against her excellent young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, Al Jihad Al Vaqār felt herself about to cum.
Her orgasm overtook her and spread through her entire body.
I had already stopped doing what I was doing.
As her orgasm subsided, I kissed her clit once more and then got up on top of her.
Kneeing her legs open a bit more, I positioned my ultra-hard Uncut Hindu Cock and then drove it deep inside Al Jihad Al Vaqār.
Her excellent young Musalmān body bucked and we both moaned loudly.
With an ardent intensity, I began to work my Uncut Hindu Cock in and out of her silky Musalmān pussy.
All the while, Al Jihad Al Vaqār moaned loudly and called out my name.
It was a good thing that her parent’s room, was on another floor of the hotel.
Anyone walking by the room would have clearly heard what was going on inside.
Her calling out my name only turned me on more and I worked my Uncut Hindu Cock even harder pounding into her.
Getting up on my knees, I flipped Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s legs over my shoulders and proceeded to drive deeper and deeper into her tight Musalmān pussy.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, she felt so good to me.
I knew I could cum at any moment, but I wouldn’t allow myself as I suspected this moment could never happen again.
With that thought in mind, I gave it all I could working my Uncut Hindu Cock in and out, my balls slapping against Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s beautiful Musalmān ass.
Grunting with each thrust, I watched the ecstasy etched all over Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s beautiful young Musalmān face.
I loved knowing I was the one giving her this pleasure.
As much as I detested my criminal minded, ever anti Hindu, ever anti humanity, ever communal Pseudo Musalmān stepson, I wanted to make sure that nobody ever fucked Al Jihad Al Vaqār as well as I was at this moment.
I wanted her to remember this.
“Yes darling! Is this what you want?” I said out of breath.
“Allah, Måshā Allah, Subħān Allah, yes,” Al Jihad Al Vaqār breathlessly replied. “I want you to cum into me, dad, sorry, not dad now, Durgesh darling, my actual husband from now on!”
“That’s right. What the hell do you think? I want to cuckold your terrorist stepson to both of us. And Wallāh, I promise to do it. Let him clean my Musalmān Cunt licking it, after you fuck me.”
I didn’t say anything as to its response.
I dropped Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s legs off of my shoulders and laid down on her.
Kissing her very lovingly, I rhythmically began to slide my Uncut Hindu Cock back and forth until I felt my orgasm began to build up and finally explode.
A loud guttural cry escaped from my lips as My body froze and I emptied my Hindu seed into Al Jihad Al Vaqār’s fertile Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān womb.
“Thank you darlin'” I said, as I smiled and kissed Al Jihad Al Vaqār afterward. “You’re something else, you beautiful woman. My stepson is a lucky man.”
No more words were said as we got up, enjoyed a shower together and then ate breakfast leisurely.
Al Jihad Al Vaqār got dressed again, and slipped off to her room to prepare for her wedding day.
No one smiled more, at the wedding, than the bride and the father of the groom that day.
About a year later, I could only smile when people told me how much my 3 month old namesake grandson looked like me.
There would be more in the line.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
That evening at dinner, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid told Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, her husband,
“Honey, I want to go to spring break with Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār. She and Shankar Mahāpralayankar are going to Fort Lauderdale.”
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, grimaced. “Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid, I don’t want to spend my vacation with a bunch of wild college kids.”
“I know you don’t,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid answered with a smile. “We’ll go on our regular vacation in the summer. Spring break is just for me.”
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband’s eyebrows raised.
“You want to go to spring break alone?”
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid shook her head.
“Not alone. With my friend Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār and her boyfriend Shankar Mahāpralayankar. And with Durgesh.”
“Durgesh?” Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, looked at me smirking his wife. “Dad! Have you listened to your overzealous Bahū Bégum? Do you want to go to spring break with her? If you are free to accompany her, I mean. If you don’t have any other more important work at your hand.” He thought about his question for just a Moment, then said, “Stupid question. All 65-year-old fathers in law want to go to anywhere to protect their daughters in law if their inconsiderate husbands don’t understand how necessary it is to go with their wives.” Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, looked back and forth between me and Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid for a minute then said, “Alright. I don’t see any reason why not. The two of you can take care of each other and make sure you don’t get into trouble.”
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid squealed, jumped up and hugged Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, “Thank you, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd! Durgesh and I will take good care of each other.”
She didn’t tell him that her friends thought I was her husband, and she was sure I wasn’t going to say anything.
It was too strange to mention.*
The morning we were to leave for spring break, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid kissed Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, goodbye at the door.
He was going to play golf with his friends.
The damn fool.
“Thanks again for letting me go,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid said.
“You’re welcome. Have fun but don’t drink too much and don’t do drugs,” he urged.
“We won’t,” she assured him.
One more kiss and he left.
She closed the door and turned to me.
“Ready for a fun week, Durgesh? We are husband and wife now for one week. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid. This should be a blast.”
She hugged me and looked up into my eyes.
I was about 4 inches taller.
“No more calling me Bahū Bégum’, dummy,” she scolded. “I’m your wife this week, remember? You have to call me Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid. Say it. Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid.”
“Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid.”
“Good,” she replied, and then kissed me on the lips.
I jerked back from her. “What was that?!” I yelped.
“Practice,” she told me. “And you failed. We’re supposed to be married. If you act like that when we kiss, Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār will know something is up!”
“Why do we have to kiss?”
“We’re married. Married couples kiss. Particularly young married couples. Let’s try it again.” She planted another kiss on my lips. I held myself rigid for a minute, then finally gave in and returned the kiss a little.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid broke the kiss and pouted.
“You didn’t freak out this time, but it still wasn’t good, Durgesh. This is important to me, honey. Please don’t ruin spring break for me. Try a little harder, okay?” she pleaded.
She knew I’d do anything for her when she really needed it.
I dipped her and gave her a huge dramatic smooch.
“Better?” I asked.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid came up laughing.
“Maybe a little too much.” She hugged me tight. “Thank you for helping me fit in with my college friends, honey.”
“No problem.” She gave me another quick peck on the lips before Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār and Shankar Mahāpralayankar pulled into our driveway.
Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār was a cute little brunette, shorter than Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid and kind of chunky.
But she had a bubbly personality just like Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s and I could see why they were friends.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was a big strong dude.
A couple inches smaller than me and heavier with muscles.
He was a cool guy and we got along well right away.
“Do y’all own that house?” Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār asked, staring at the impressive family home. “How can you afford it?”
“I have an inheritance from my grandfather,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid explained.
“Wow,” Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār marveled. “So you bought this place for you and Durgesh?”
“Yep,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid replied. “As soon as Durgesh obliged me by accepting my proposal, we married and I moved him in with me.” She winked at me.
“So you’re married and have a house and your lovely Musalmān wife is still in high school?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar asked me.
“Yeah,” I smiled.
“Cool,” he responded with admiration.
It was Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s SUV and he felt most comfortable driving.
He drove for 3 hours, and then took a break while Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār drove for an hour or so.
Then he drove again.
It was fine with me.
I think driving is boring.
I dozed off on the back seat, and when I woke, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid was stretched out on the seat with her head on my lap.
Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār noticed that I was awake and softly said,
“You two are so cute together. It’s obvious how much she loves you.”
I smiled proudly.
“Thanks. I really love her too.”
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid must have been awake because she cheerfully said,
“That’s so sweet, honey.” She reached up and pulled my head down to hers.
Her lips met mine in a scorching kiss that lasted for at least a minute and left me breathless with a great Hindu erection too.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā!
I started suspecting her hidden intentions now.
It wasn’t an act.
It was really a kiss from a woman that, loved me womanly tremendously, desperately and wildly.
Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār giggled.
“I think you dazed him with that one, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid.”
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid giggled too and scooted up to sit on my lap. “That’s the way I like him best, dazed and confused, and I work hard to keep him that way,” she teased.
Her head rested on my shoulder.
A pretty Musalmān girl on my Hindu male lap always felt good, no doubt.
I loosely wrapped my arms around her waist and we snuggled.
“Aww, so cute,” Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār cooed from the front seat.
It was close to midnight when we finally made it to Fort Lauderdale. When we checked in, I was stunned to learn that we all were sharing one room.
“We don’t have our own room?” I asked Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid.
“No, silly. That’s the whole reason Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār invited us. To split the cost of the room so she and Shankar Mahāpralayankar could afford to come. There’s nothing wrong with a man and wife sharing a room with another couple,” she dismissed my concerns.
My eyes boggled.
“You don’t mind sharing a bed with me?” I whispered, almost reproachfully.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid looked at me puzzled, then reached out and tousled my hair.
“Stop being silly. This week we’re married, so it’s fine. Now get with the program, Durgesh. If you don’t start acting like a loving husband, Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār and Shankar Mahāpralayankar will know something is wrong.”
While Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār and Shankar Mahāpralayankar were occupied, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid stepped outside to call home and let Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, know we arrived safely.
We went to the room, and I tried to act natural.
We were all exhausted so we got ready for bed.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid wore an oversize t-shirt to bed, and I wore a t-shirt and boxer shorts.
We got into our beds and turned out the light.
It wasn’t long before I heard noises from the other bed.
I guess Shankar Mahāpralayankar and Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār couldn’t keep their hands off each other, even though we were right there.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar huffed like a locomotive and Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār made weird little squeaking noises.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid and I both turned on our sides, with our backs to Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār and Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
“Eep, eep, eep!” Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār’s funny little squeaks continued as Shankar Mahāpralayankar fucked her.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid started giggling at the crazy situation, and then Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār started giggling too.
“I can’t help it,” the Musalmān blonde laughed, still in the midst of fucking. “Those noises just come out.”
That made Shankar Mahāpralayankar laugh, and then me too.
It removed the tension from the room.
When they were done fucking, Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār said,
“Sorry for embarrassing you guys, but I really needed that.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid replied. “You’re on vacation and we’re all adults. Have fun.”
“Thanks, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid. If you and Durgesh want to do it too, go right ahead,” she said with a giggle.
“I think we’ll just sleep, Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār. Goodnight.”*
When I woke, I was spooned against Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s back.
We were still on our sides, but I must have snuggled up to her in the night.
My arm was draped over her stomach, so I lifted it in embarrassment.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid grabbed it and put it back around her.
“Don’t move,” she twisted her head to me and whispered. “It’s comforting to be with you like this. Never forget you aren’t my father in law here. You are my husband. Damn you. Did you sleep well?”
“I slept great,” I whispered.
And I did.
I slept through the night like a log.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid smiled.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar and Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār got up and went into the bathroom to shower together.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid rolled over to face me.
“This is a lot less awkward than I thought it would be,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid said softly. “I like cuddling with my ever protecting Hindu father in law acting as my ever loving Hindu husband.”
“I like it too,” I said, yet only to please her.
Even Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid could detect it was a lie.
She looked at me warningly at first, then pleadingly.
I struggled to keep my morning hard-on from pressing against Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s perfect perky round luscious utmost voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
I couldn’t help it.
I couldn’t act important, neither I ever wanted to.
When Shankar Mahāpralayankar and Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār were done in the bathroom, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid told me to use it next. I shat, showered, shaved and put on my red swim trunks.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid used the bathroom last, and came out wearing a new bikini.
“What do you think?” she asked and wagged her perky round luscious utmost voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks in a saucy way at me.
“Eīshān! Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid! That’s hot!” I exclaimed.
Small triangles held her round ardent Musalmān tits and the bikini bottom was cut very low.
She turned around and I saw that the back only covered a fraction of her tight little perky round luscious utmost voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān butt.
“It is hot,” Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār agreed.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar put his eyes back in his head and rolled his tongue back into his mouth.
“Yeah. It’s hot,” he simply said.
Both Musalmān girls giggled and Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid hugged me.
The beach was full of pretty Musalmān college girls, but in that bikini Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid attracted a ton of attention.
Even girls eyed her with lust as she sauntered around until we found an empty patch of sand for our blankets.
A big group of college kids were having a splash battle in the ocean.
The four of us quickly joined in.
The splash battle intensified when Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār and another Musalmān girl jumped on Shankar Mahāpralayankar and pushed him underwater.
He came up sputtering and everyone laughed.
In retaliation, several Hindus tackled their Musalmān girlfriends and dunked them.
I advanced on Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid and she looked worried, but still smiling.
“Durgesh, don’t,” she begged and laughed as she tried to back away.
I jumped, cleanly knocked her off her feet and dunked her with a big splash.
I helped her back to her feet and kept my hands on her waist to steady her.
She pushed her wet hair out of her face.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “I couldn’t resist.” Then whispered, “I didn’t want you to complain to me once again.”
“It’s okay. This is fun,” she replied with a smile.
She leaned against me to whisper in my ear,
“I’m glad you’re here, Durgesh. I couldn’t relax and enjoy myself with anyone but you.”
“Yet, never forget you aren’t my wife actually.” I cautioned her in a whisper and then loudly I smiled, “I’m glad too,”
I tried not to perv out on the feel of her soft ardent Musalmān tits compressed against my bare Hindu male chest, or the sight of water dripping down her face.
There’s just something about a soaking wet Musalmān girl that reved my engine ever.
The splash battle wound down and the others were headed for the beach.
I let go of Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid and we followed.
We spent most of that day doing the usual beach stuff.
Sunning, reading, trying to ride the little waves, throwing a Frisbee, taking walks.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid played and had as much fun as any of the young college kids.
She really did fit in with them.
It made me proud of her.
The Musalmān girls wanted to get dressed up that night.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar and I just wore khakis and polo shirts, but we learned the Musalmān girls shopped together before the trip.
They had matching little black dresses.
They were sleeveless and the neckline dropped low, displaying the perfect Musalmān cleavage between Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s ardent Musalmān tits.
The dresses were tight and short too, ending only a few inches down their thighs.
“Wow. You Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān ladies are gorgeous,” I complimented.
“Yeah babes, you look great,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar agreed.
Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār gave him a kiss, so Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid smirked at me and planted one on my lips too.
I didn’t flinch or anything.
She was a good kisser.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid happily took my arm and we went to a nice restaurant for dinner.
We went to a nightclub after.
The club was an upscale one.
They played “American standards” music, like Sinatra, and it was all slow dancing.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar and Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār went right on the floor to dance, but I didn’t ask Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid.
She kept looking at me, expecting me to ask her, but I just watched the others.
A beautiful young Musalmān girl who looked like an offensive linewoman came right up to me and said, “Come on, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu. Let’s dance. You love us Musalmān Cuties. Don’t you?”
She took my hand and pulled me toward the dance floor.
I looked back at Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid but I didn’t know what she wanted to do.
I didn’t want to stop her from doing only what she wanted to do and having a good time if she wanted to.
I drew the beautiful Musalmān young lady into my arms and danced us into the crowd.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid tried to keep an eye on me but the other dancers got in the way.
Two, then three songs passed and I didn’t return.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid started to get mad.
Mad at herself for not asking me herself to dance and at me for leaving her there alone and dancing with that Musalmān cutie.
I came back into view and Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid saw that I had a big hand on her perky round luscious utmost voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid rushed out to her.
“That’s enough,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid told the girl.
She sneered at Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid.
“Beat it, cold bitch. The sex god is with me now.”
“If you don’t take your hands off my husband, I’m going to break your nose,” Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid threatened.
The Musalmān cutie looked like she wouldn’t mind a fight, but Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid told him, “Thank you for the dances, Fātimah, but my wife will take over now. She herself needs me now. No hard feelings, please! My first duty is to my wife, if she herself needs me.”
To my credit, she backed away without a fight.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid had a little smirk on her lips that annoyed me.
I gathered her in my arms and danced with her.
She leaned in, pressing the full length of her curvy luscious voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body against mine, and whispered in my ear,
“Sorry, it took me so long.”
“What?” I asked, somewhat still mad.
“It took me so long to get you away from that ravenous shameless Musalmān bitch. I’m your wife this week, honey. You shouldn’t let other Musalmān bitches dance with you.”
I stared in her eyes, but couldn’t figure out if she was teasing me.
“I thought you wanted me to dance with her.”
She shrugged but her eyes sparkled merrily.
She was enjoying this but I had no idea what was going on her mind actually.
“I wanted to dance with you, but she asked and you didn’t,” I explained. “And you know how much the Musalmān cuties like to dance with me. You shouldn’t have let me go with her.”
She shook her head. “I’m your wife. You need to assert yourself. She had her hands all over crotch, I saw.”
She was still smirking.
“I know,” I smiled. “I can’t believe you let her do that.”
“I expected you to stop him,” she replied innocently. “You’re my big strong husband. You’re supposed to protect me.”
I smiled proudly, unashamed by my inaction.
“Sorry,” I apologized, “I can’t any Musalmān cutie that offers herself to me. It’s my moral duty not to humiliate her.”
She giggled and nipped my earlobe with her teeth.
“It’s okay. I think I learned my lesson.”
We stayed at the nightclub for hours.
The music wasn’t my favorite, but I had to admit that slow dancing was a hell of a lot of fun after Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid joined me as my jealous Musalmān wife.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid stayed in my arms the rest of the night, mostly swaying on the dance floor but also with my arm around her while at our table.
I used the restroom once, and damned if some girl wasn’t chatting up Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid when I got back.
I possessively put my arm around her waist and glared at the girl.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid kissed my cheek and told her, “This is my husband and we’re going to dance again.”
Out on the dance floor I warned her,
“What the hell, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid? I’m gone for a minute and you’re consenting for me to flirt with some Musalmān cutie again.”
She gave me that smirk.
“I wanted to see what you’d do, and you passed with flying colors, darling.” She kissed me gently. “Don’t worry; I wasn’t letting you going to dance with her.”
“It didn’t look that way to me.” Seeing her with flirting Musalmān girls with me really alerted me off.
She was married and my ostensible Musalmān wife after all!
“Don’t get angry, husband, Durgesh,” she chastised. “If you’re going to act like a Hindu playboy then I won’t stop you ever. It would be easy. Most of the Musalmān cuties in here are eying you like a piece of meat.”
1. Bahoo Begum
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Her Ammī said on the mobile,
“I don’t care how you do it, just try and find out.”
She had phoned saying she had a delicate matter to discuss, and wanted a favor.
This was the favor:
She was concerned that her little brother, Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb, might be gay, or at least unsure of his sexuality.
She had been concerned at some of the friends he was starting to hang around with, some of the clothes he had started to wear, and some of the things he had started to say.
She was wondering, since Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb and Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm used to be close – well certainly the closest of her five offspring – whether Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb could come and stay with Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her Hindu husband, Durgesh, during the February school break.
Just for a week, during which Time Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm could perhaps have a chat and find out what was going on in his head.
“Talk, or whatever. Whatever you need to do. However, you do it.”
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm agreed, against her better judgment.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm was twenty eight years old.
Married to me, sixty five, for four years, despite the tremendous opposition of her entire family.
Lived about ten miles from her parents and Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had three older sisters.
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was the youngest, and was ten years her junior.
He was the surprise, the unexpected child.
They were not sure her parents planned to have anymore after Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm.
Anyway, as Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings were nearest in age Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings got on well as kids.
While her sisters were out partying and meeting Hindu boys, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings learned how to change nappies and bath babies.
Again Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings lost interest by the Time Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm was fourteen.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings worked part Time.
I worked full Time for sexual social services.
Everyone insisted persistently I shouldn’t ever change it, including the learned, highly educated and absolutely unbiased humanist Musalmīn even that actually wanted to cure Ummat-e-Muslimah from sexual and other abuses as Ħuzūr sallallāhu ålayhi wa sallam himself did.
They argued none else was as capable and as unbiased in this matter, as I was.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings liked her job.
Her co-workers were fun and Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had to admit to enjoying looking at some of the fit young female students.
I was her one and only, in every sense.
She never enjoyed even looking anyone else!*
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb arrived on Sunday afternoon.
She last saw him at Eīdul Fitr, he seemed well.
They used to be close but Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t know him that well.
They didn’t talk much and usually when they did, it was at family gathering.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t get the chance to really talk to him.
He always seemed a bit quiet, pre occupied.
A bit of a peripheral figure.
He settled in, they showed him his room.
He quietly found an armchair to make his base for the week.
He read a lot – something Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t know.
Sunday passed uneventfully, as did Monday.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and I go to work.
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb just hung around at home.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm come back from work about 2pm, and we just watched TV, or read.
I told all this was quite funny.
When Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm told me, straddling and fucking me, her Ammī’s request, I just raised my eyebrows.
“That’s your Ammī all over,” I said gravely.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm raised her eyebrows, but I didn’t extend what I already had said of her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān Ammī.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm doubted her still extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī ardent Musalmān Ammī was too having a wild animal extramarital affair with me, as most of her beautiful Musalmān lady friends did.
Yet, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm never liked they never needed it.
It was only their ever irresponsible sexual adventure that they wanted to keep enjoying.
On Monday night, we went to bed, leaving Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb downstairs watching TV.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm awoke about two hours later, just hearing the TV still on.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm got up and crept downstairs.
The TV was on, football showing, but Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was asleep on the sofa.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm switched off the TV, shook him awake and led him to his bedroom.
This part of our immensely large house was compact, box shaped, two bedrooms and a small garden.
Downstairs you come in the front door, immediately left is a toilet. Through the small hall to an open plan kitchen, diner, living room and then French windows leading to the garden.
From the hall is a winding staircase up to the landing.
A bathroom, a store cupboard and the two bedrooms.
Tuesday followed a similar pattern to Monday.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm got home about 2 pm.
Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was out, leaving a note saying he had gone for a walk to explore the neighborhood.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm was quite pleased that he wasn’t just sitting around all day, but making the effort to get out.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm decided she must take him out for lunch one day.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm didn’t start work till noon on Wednesday or Friday, and was off on Thursday.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm went upstairs to her bedroom.
She removed her work uniform and went to have a shower.
Just as Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm came out the shower, the doorbell rang.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and her siblings wrapped a towel around herself and went downstairs.
It was Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb.
“Sorry Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm, I forgot her key,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm smiled. “It’s all right.”
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm went back upstairs to dress.
When I came in we had dinner, then I asked Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb if he would like to come along to the pool club with me.
Great idea Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm thought.
It would be good for them to bond a bit.
Maybe I could get some damn clue to save Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm having to solve her Ammī’s ‘problem’.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had to admit Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm had almost forgotten the reason Al Nādir Al Aurangzeb was there.
Even though he was still quiet, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and I were enjoying him being here.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm couldn’t explain it but Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm thought he was enjoying it too.
Ammī could be quite domineering at Times.
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm just couldn’t see how Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm and I were going to tackle THE subject.
That night in bed, Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm asked me if I had approached her Ammī’s topic.
“No,” I said abruptly. ” Poor lad, just needs to be left alone I reckon.”
“I do agree, but……”.
“I know I know, your Ammī won’t let it rest.”
“What are you gonna do then?” Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm asked me.
“Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm, I don’t know.”
“You could ask him outright.”
‘I’m not sure, that will probably piss him off.”
“What then? We both fuck around in front of him and see his reaction to it.” I teased Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm.
She didn’t get my point.
“Yeah right.” Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm beamed, “Why didn’t you go into his room naked one night and see if it gets him greedy for your Uncut Hindu Lund ?”
I looked at her,
“Nonsense, I don’t want to fuck any Musalmān in his ass. I’m not Shankar Mahāpralayankar, neither Rājesh Rājpūt. I never lack beautiful Musalmān houseladies and Musalmān Beauties to satisfy myself sexually.”
Al Zubaydah Al Nadīm smiled at me, teasing me,
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar says even a Musalmān’s ass works as an anal rheostat when a Stavak Shaktimān Uncut Hindu Lund penetrates it.”*
Al Åābidah Al Sultān didn’t know why she did it.
She guessed she just wasn’t thinking.
She did it unknowingly.
It was either her increased Bhogchakr to her ultimate status, an Ummil åālmīn, or my increased Bhogyantrānk that provided her immense Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān beauty to let me enjoy her sexually.
I didn’t want to, if it were the second case.
Her husband was one of my Musalmān stepsons and I wanted to keep my Musalmān stepsons’ faith in me too.
Indian National Congress and the other pseudo secular anti Hindus were tremendously defeated in the recent Loksabhā Elections in 2014.
The Time Cycle of Midterm 2012 had resulted ultimately into complete destruction of the anti Hindus and pseudo seculars.
Even the Pseudo Musalmīn were returning to their pre 1857 attitude.
Perhaps even to more.
1857 didn’t have absolute Hindu leadership.
Now, it was too there.
I wanted the return of the faith of even Pseudo Musalmīn in Hindu leadership forever.
The British rule after 1857 had tried to destroy it their best.
It even succeeded even in dividing India and keeping Pakistan against India deliberately, determinedly and adamantly.
Previous Indian National Congress government of India stupidly let it happen.
Now an NDA, a BJP government actually, with complete majority, had come into power.
The Hindus must show their real big heartedness to not only to Musalmīn but to every minority even.
It would prove their unique competence to lead and make the world better constantly nonstop forever.
It was an opportunity for Hindus to prove the anti Hindu pseudo seculars wrong forever.
HVSI had brought it laboriously gradually eventually ultimately in two years approximately.
Now it was the time to act intellectually.
Hindus could retain their victory by acting intellectually winning the confidence and faith of the minorities forever and prove the anti Hindu pseudo seculars wrong forever.*
Farīdah Imām and I were looking into one another’s eyes very passionately.
Her beautiful nude Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān legs were around my nude Hindu male waist.
I was playing with her gorgeous ardent Musalmān buttocks.
“We can do now more than we did when Hindutv was not in power in India.” Farīdah Imām smiled.
“Let’s Narendr Modi start with Nawaz Sharif, Åbdullah Yāmīn, Ħāmid Karzaī etcetera affably. The region should come under peace once more.”
Al Farīdah Al Imām squeezed her vaginal muscles around my Uncut Hindu Lund.
“Don’t you think the Pseudo Musalmīn terrorists can try to destroy the glamour of the occasion?”
I felt the immense sexual bliss around my penis.
Al Farīdah Al Imām was expert in pleasuring me now tremendously.
Why couldn’t she?
She never married Nazīr Aħmad for him or herself even.
Moreover, she had expressed to everyone that actually she loved me, not Nazīr Aħmad extremely boldly.
If they didn’t like it, they should have objected at the very time when Al Farīdah Al Imām managed to sit on my lap openly for more than fifteen minutes even.
Yet, Saåīdah Anwar, Rashīd Aħmad, Nazīr Aħmad, no one objected then.*
We started with a run on our two treadmills.
Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s industrial-strength sports bra didn’t completely restrain the bounce of her D-cup ardent Musalmān boobs.
She I loved me to watch them.
It was infuriating to her that I didn’t seem to notice.
Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s big ardent Musalmān tits were a present from Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s husband, for her thirtieth birthday.
She told him she didn’t want to go through her whole life with tiny A-cup boobs, and he was happy to pay for an ardent Musalmān boobs job.
At the time she was also becoming overweight, as thirty-year-old women generally tend to, if she doesn’t care especially.
She joined me in my morning workouts.
She said I was her inspiration.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s husband, laughed on it.
“Okay, but I won’t guarantee you won’t fall in love with Dad. They call him Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.”
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid felt her loyalty to her husband, her shauharparasī and her Īmān, both insulted.
As soon as Narendr Modī assumed office as the new Prime Minister Of India, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al kħālid’s husband, had started taunting her more.
No doubt, being thirty, a Jet Musalmān Beauty, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid appreciated Narendr Modī very much.
But she wasn’t alone even in the Musalmān youth.
Four years of workouts sculpted Al Maimūnah Al kħālid into a sleek and strong specimen of feminine perfection with platinum blonde hair.
34D-24-34. 5’6″ tall.
Perky round luscious utmost voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān butt.
Perky round proud ever erect excellent Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān tits were high and firm, not that there’s anything wrong with that.
She closely resembled Nigār Sultānah, a heroine of yesteryears.
Google her and you’ll get the idea.
After running on the treadmills, we lifted free weights then finished with thirty minutes of yoga.
The yoga was Al Maimūnah Al Khalid’s idea.
I went along with it because it kept me flexible and it’s entertaining to watch her contort herself into all those poses.
When we were done, we cooled down for a few minutes on an old sofa in the basement.
“So, how are classes going?” I asked.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid was a college freshman at age 34.
She didn’t go to college at the normal age because she had her daughter to take care of.
My stepson, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, knocked her up when she was only 16 and he was 20.
Her daughter, Al Jihād fil Islam, was eighteen now and a senior in high school.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, didn’t mind Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid going to college.
It amused him in fact.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid was kind of a bubble-headed blonde.
Not exactly the academic type.
Neither Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, nor I could picture Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid in a college classroom, but she wanted it so we supported her 100%.
She was a great person despite being a bit ditzy.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid inherited money from her wealthy family, but Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, was a banker and could afford to support them without dipping into Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s funds.
They had a good, prosperous life in Memphis, Tennessee.
Anyway, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s face lit up and she replied, “College is great, Durgesh. I’m having so much fun!”
“Good. You’re fitting in?” I asked.
She had been worried about fitting in with the other college freshmen because she was so much older.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid giggled.
“Yep. I told them I’m 22 and they believe me! They think your old Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid is barely older than you are! Not bad, huh?”
I wasn’t really surprised.
She had a young-looking cute face with high cheekbones and dimples, and her body was probably the envy of every girl in her classroom.
“It’s because you keep yourself in great shape,” I complimented her.
“And I have you to thank for that, honey. You’re my inspiration,” she replied and kissed me on the cheek. “I wish your stepson, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, my husband, would work out with us.”
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, was a little older than Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid, 40, exactly 25 years younger than me.
Yet he was overweight.
He never paid attention to keep himself fittest as we both did.
I never left my Stavans, Mandrs, and Satrs.
Similarly, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid never missed her Panjvaqtah Namāz.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd too never missed his Salawāt yet, he wasn’t fit nevertheless.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid teased her husband,
“Salawāt keep us Musalmān womankind fittest. You mankind need something more. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā reincarnated says, if Taħannus, Stavan, Meditation, isn’t added, Salawāt actually femalize Musalmīn.”
“Nonsense, damn your Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and yourself too. Allah Allah. And you call her Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā reincarnated? You are crazy. Lāhaul vilā qūvat.”
As a loan officer at the bank, he spent too much time sitting behind a desk.
“Good luck getting him to exercise,” I said.
Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, was a sedentary, inactive, sitting, kind of guy.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid sighed.
“I know, but I worry about his health.”
Then she brightened up and added,
“Speaking of your ever incompetent stepson Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, my ever imperfect husband, a funny thing happened yesterday.”
“What?” I smiled.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid giggled.
“I told Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār that you’re my husband,” she said.
Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār was Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s best friend at college.
“What?! Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t mean to. It was an accident,” she replied and giggled again. “Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār knows I’m married, and when she saw your photo on my phone, she assumed that you’re my husband.”
“Why didn’t you correct her?” I asked.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid looked at me as if I was a dunce.
“Your ever incompetent stepson, Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid’s husband, isn’t very believable as the husband of a young college girl, Durgesh!”
That was true.
40-year-old overweight men with receding hairlines rarely are married to college freshmen.
“So you let her think your sixty five years old Hindu father in law is your husband?” I asked incredulously.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid grinned and nodded.
“Isn’t it brilliant? It really helps me fit in. Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār thinks you’re hot, by the way. She thinks you aren’t thirty five even.”
“Is she hot? You could set me up on a date with her,” I kidded.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid frowned.
“You’re supposed to be my husband, Durgesh.”
“Oh yeah,” I chuckled.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid seemed to be annoyed with my joke, but a couple minutes later she hesitantly said,
“Al Ůzrah Al Vaqār invited us to go to spring break with her and her boyfriend Shankar Mahāpralayankar.”
My jaw dropped. “What? You and me? Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid, I can’t go to spring break with you.”
She pouted and whined, “Why not? I really really want to go. I won’t embarrass you, I promise.”
“No, Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid. It’s too weird.”
“Please?” she begged. “I never got to do stuff like this when I was your age.”
She left it unspoken that she didn’t do stuff like that because she was taking care of her daughter.
Was it a sin that, she must not get it even now, if she could get it?
I felt the weight of guilt crushing me.
Maybe this wasn’t too much to ask.
Going on a vacation with her wasn’t too weird, was it?
Moreover, it would make her happy.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid deserved to be happy.
“Okay,” I agreed.
I was sure I’d regret it otherwise.
I never wanted to regret ever for anything whatsoever if it could be avoided somehow.
Al Maimūnah Al Kħālid squealed with delight and jumped into my arms.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You’re the ever best father in law, Durgesh!” She kissed me on both cheeks and the tip of my nose.
“Don’t you mean best husband?” I teased.
“Yes. Best spring break Hindu hubby.” She kissed the tip of my nose again.
“Has Al Shmasuddīn Al Saåīd, your husband, agreed to this trip?”
“Not yet. I was hoping you’d help me convince him tonight.”
1. Bahoo Begum
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
It was early, slightly before dawn, and, as was my habit, I had sat up, stepped out of bed, stretched out briefly to loosen up, padded into the kitchen for the coffee that was waiting for me, and now sat in my living room, looking out over the city vista below.
Though the view was entrancing, it barely registered in the ever handsome Sex Champion Ultimate Star’s consciousness.
My thoughts were instead turned inward as I reviewed recent events in my progression into the role of a Hindu bull for two young married Musalmān couples.
For the past three weeks, I’d explored boundaries with Al Nādirah Al Waħīd and Åbdul Ħamīd, a newlywed Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couple I’d met through another married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couple, Lubnā Salīm and Muħammad Ashfāq.
Al Nādirah Al Waħīd was just 21, a willowy blonde assistant at the middle University where Lubnā Salīm taught.
Lubnā Salīm had delighted in “converting” Al Nādirah Al Waħīd and her Pseudo Musalmān husband into an Uncut Hindu Lund cuckold couple, and often participated in My sex sessions with the younger blonde, urging her friend to explore every perversion she could dream up.
Lubnā Salīm was certainly creative.
I had to admit.
She’d just had herself tattooed with a Hindu spade right above the crack of her delicious derriere.
The three inch high tattoo had a large “Q” inside the outline of the spade, as an open acknowledgment that she was a “Queen of Spades” and therefore into fucking Hindu man.
Al Nādirah Al Waħīd had shown up the next day with a similar tattoo in the same location, though Al Nādirah Al Waħīd’s tattoo was simply an all-Hindu spade, minus the “Q.”
Lubnā Salīm had laughingly referred to herself as my pimp to the world of young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples, and claimed Al Nādirah Al Waħīd as the first conversion in her planned stable of hot Musalmān wives.
“Between Al Nādirah Al Waħīd and me, we know at least a dozen young married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples under 30 who are totally ready for converting to cuckolding,” Lubnā Salīm said. “We’re on a mission to spread the gospel of big Hindu dick and you’re the tip of the spear!”
At this, I laughed heartily.
It took me a minute before I realized the redheaded pixy was quite serious.
“I gather you’re serious about this. How do you know the Musalmān couples are serious about it too?” I asked.
“Because we’ve talked to them about it,” Al Nādirah Al Waħīd replied.
“Interesting,” I said. “And both the musalmān wives and the Musalmān husbands are clear about wanting to try?”
Al Lubnā Al Salīm hemmed and hawed.
“Musalmān wives, yes, definitely; not all the Musalmān husbands are, shall we say, eager. Oh, and to be more precise, they’re not all married Musalmān couples. Three are only engaged. One of those three happens to be my younger sister, Al Nauhīd Al Salīm.”
“Tell me more.” I said.
“Al Nauhīd Al Salīm’s eighteen and just got engaged; her fiancé’s twenty, and a Pseudo Musalmān himself, of course. They’ve been together since her first year in University. She’s a kinky little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān slut – takes after him, I suppose. Åbdul Qādir’s a jock – nice looking, ripped, and very well bisexual – 2 inches only, Al Nauhīd Al Salīm says,” Al Lubnā Al Salīm explained. “She’s planned you to fuck a bunch of her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girlfriends including a few who are married. Åbdul Qādir is a bisexual for the married Musalmān couples now. Al Nauhīd Al Salīm thinks it’s time for Åbdul Qādir to see the other side of the cuckold equation. She’s convinced he’ll be a better bisexual if he understands the psychology of being a cuckold, too. Plus she’s never had a Hindu guy and she really wants to try. Åbdul Qādir’s up for it.”
“So are there other candidates you want to talk about, or are you set on Al Nauhīd Al Salīm and Åbdul Qādir?” I asked, smiling suggestively.
Al Nādirah Al Waħīd laughed at the question.
“Al Lubnā Al Salīm’s promised Al Nauhīd Al Salīm that she’s first in line.”
“Then set it up,” I winked at her.
Al Lubnā Al Salīm nodded.
She obviously had something on her mind, but seemed hesitant, which was unusual for the outgoing Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān redhead.
Finally she spoke.
“I need to talk to you about how you relate to your couples,” she said. “I really hope you won’t be offended. You’re a really tremendously nice Hindu guy. You’re good looking, athletic, and Allah Ålīmun Kħabīrun, God knows, you’re well hung immensely. And you’re the greatest fuck, honestly better than my Pseudo Musalmān husband or any other guy I’ve ever known even.”
“But . . .” I said.
“You’re almost too nice – too much of a gentleman. It’s hard to explain,” Al Lubnā Al Salīm continued. “I’ve talked about it with Muħammad Ashfāq and Al Nādirah Al Waħīd, and we’re in agreement. As wonderful as you are, it would be even better if you were much more dominant. I know it may sound ridiculous, but part of cuckolding is surrendering to a Hindu bull – giving up control to a force of nature. When we fuck, I want you to pound my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot into complete submission, to fuck me like the married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut I want to be to you, to make me come rather than helping me come. I want you to know that when we’re fucking you just own my Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān body and can use it any way you want to.”
She paused, and then went on.
“I want my Pseudo Musalmān husband to recognize your total superiority – that in his wildest dreams even, my Pseudo Musalmān husband will never ever get close to using my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot and mouth and ass the way your big Uncut Hindu Lund does. He needs to see that, and hear that, and really know it. I want you to fuck me like your married Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān whore, and I want you to help me show my Pseudo Musalmān husband that, to humiliate him. You need to be more dismissive of our Pseudo Musalmīn husbands and at the same time more directive. Basically, you need to really own us,” she said.
“The Musalmān couples need to know they’ve crossed a line they will never cross back,” Al Lubnā Al Salīm continued. “Our Pseudo Musalmīn husbands need to see and hear that from that point on they will always be secondary to their Musalmān wives’ Hindu bulls. And the musalmān wives need to see their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān pussies are owned by a MuslimātRamañ Hindu man. You’re not borrowing a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife for a bit of fun, you’re taking her, fucking the hell out of her, and converting her into an Uncut Hindu Lund Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife. I hope that makes sense,” she said.
I never told her how the hell I hated the idea.
I nodded instead.
“It does, but it seems to reinforce a stereotypical relationship between a Hindu bull and a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couple.”
“Understood,” said Al Lubnā Al Salīm, “but the stereotype speaks directly to the sort of primal desires that married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples have, at least when we start out. It’s kind of a dark inversion of the public image we have as a happy young married Musalmān couple.” She paused. “While we’re being open on the topic, I wanted to ask you if you have a hung Hindu friend too you trust.”
I was alert somewhat.
“For two reasons,” Al Lubnā Al Salīm replied. “First, there are more Musalmān couples than you could probably comfortably handle at once – no offense. And second, having another Hindu bull opens up a whole lot of possibilities for wicked fun with the musalmān wives.” She went on. “Al Nādirah Al Waħīd and I really do know a dozen young Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples who are seriously interested in trying out the lifestyle, and we’d like to set up a tight group of cuckold Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān couples and hung Hindu bulls. There’s a lot of interest. But we need to find another Hindu bull to get it started.”
“I know just the guy who I’m pretty certain would be glad to help out,” I said. “He played Sex Olympics with me. He was always messing with Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girls. Big guy, maybe 6 feet three, 220 pounds, solid muscle. Jet Hindu and very confident around Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān women, kind of a natural-born arrogance.”
“Is he hung?” Al Nādirah Al Waħīd asked.
“Like the proverbial stallion. Shankar Mahāpralayankar told me he’s a bit over 10 inches and very, very thick, which was why the Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girls were always hanging around him if I’m not available to them. If you’re really serious about wanting a huge-hung dom Hindu bull, he’s definitely the guy to take over a married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couple, convert the Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife, and stretch the hell out of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.”
“Make the call,” Al Lubnā Al Salīm smiled triumphantly.
I never told her carefully that I was totally against it.
I knew the more I’d tried to stop her, the more she too had gone to Shankar Mahāpralayankar as her second choice after me.
Her ever closest elder friend, Sidrah Aħmad, liked and praised Shankar Mahāpralayankar even more than she liked and praised me.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was more popular among wicked and horny Musalmān Beauties than even I was.
They damn cared even if Shankar Mahāpralayankar was a tremendously communal anti Muslim Hindu.
Instead, they loved him more for it.
The more tremendously communal anti Muslim Hindu Shankar Mahāpralayankar was the better for them.
They wanted their Pseudo Musalmīn husbands humiliated beyond every humiliation even they could think of.*
Two hours later, I was sitting in my living room when the doorbell rang.
I opened the door to admit my friend, poured him a drink, and then after exchanging pleasantries, the two of us sat down to discuss the business at hand.
I had explained the reason for reaching out to Shankar Mahāpralayankar on the phone, but wanted to meet face-to-face to talk about the situation in greater detail.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled,
“So, you’ve hooked up into a group of married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples itching to see if what they say about Hindu men is true, and you want me to show them it really is.”
“Right now I’m already doing two Musalmān wives, and they tell me they have about a dozen other young married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples wanting to go over to the dark side,” I said. “All of the musalmān wives are under thirty, most around 22 to 26, some younger. Couple of engaged Musalmān couples too mixed in. The two current Musalmān wives are looking to set up kind of a club for cuckold Musalmān couples, and much though I’d like to try, they don’t want me manage all that alone. They think I never humiliate their Pseudo Musalmīn husbands to the extent they want them humiliate. I’m too humane.”
“And you know I just love young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar laughed. “That hasn’t changed ever. I have to say the idea of openly fucking young Musalmān wives in front of their cuckold Musalmān husbands, appeals to me mightily. One thing, though. You were always the stand-up guy and a gentleman. I never was – I like it as nasty as I can get it with Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girls, and these Musalmān wives won’t be any different.”
I smiled bitterly.
“I was just told that I need to be more like you. Apparently these Musalmān couples want to be owned.”
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled.
“Well then, count me in. Now when do I get started with ruining a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot?”
“Well, I guess we could start with Al Lubnā Al Salīm or Al Nādirah Al Waħīd. They’re the two Musalmān wives I’m doing right now,” I said.
“No offense, Durgesh, but if you’ve already broken them in, I don’t care to have your leftovers. Now, if you want me to help turn Musalmān wives into Uncut Hindu Lund Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān sluts, you’d best set me up with a first time couple,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar smirked.
I called Al Lubnā Al Salīm and explained the situation.
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s definitely in, but he wants to start with his own first-time couple.”
Al Lubnā Al Salīm sighed.
“I really wanted you to be Al Nauhīd Al Salīm’s first Uncut Hindu Lund, but I guess Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s going to get in her first. She and Åbdul Qādir will be at your place at seven.”
At seven o’clock on the dot, my doorbell rang.
I opened it to find Al Lubnā Al Salīm and a young married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couple waiting for admission.
Al Lubnā Al Salīm kissed me and introduced her sister.
Al Nauhīd Al Salīm was strikingly like her older sister, so much so that they might have been mistaken for twins.
She was tiny and slender, about as tall as her older sister was, a bit less than five feet.
Her skin was beautiful, pale and smooth, and like her sister, she wore her red haircut short.
When she smiled, her green Musalmān eyes sparkled with merriment.
“Pleased to meet you, Durgesh,” she said, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss me on the lips.
For the briefest moment, I felt the tip of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān tongue run across my lips.
“So,” Al Nauhīd Al Salīm said, “I understand there’s been a change of plans and you won’t be my conductor to the dark side, is that right?”
Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “That’s right, baby. We brought in the A-Team for you today. But don’t worry – by the time I’m done, you won’t have any more questions about big Hindu bull dick. And neither will your cuck fiancé.”
Shankar Mahāpralayankar introduced myself to Al Nauhīd Al Salīm and Åbdul Qādir.
“Damn, I never will understand why you Musalmān guys are so eager to give up your extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān women to Hindu dick. She’s a fine looking woman.”
Al Nauhīd Al Salīm giggled and Åbdul Qādir nearly blushed.
“A whole lot of married Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān couples are curious to see what it’s all about with Hindu guys,” Al Nauhīd Al Salīm said. “You know – to see if it really is true that
‘Once with Durgesh,
All the rest is trash.’”
“It’s all true, baby, it’s all true. And after tonight, you’ll never look at your husband’s cut Musalmān nūnī the same way again. The best part is, your fiancé will be just as happy you went to Hindu as you’re going to be,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar replied. “Now why don’t you run off to the bedroom and get yourself comfortable while I talk to your man.”
Al Nauhīd Al Salīm and Al Lubnā Al Salīm both headed down the hall to my bedroom, while Shankar Mahāpralayankar drew himself up to his full height and leaned into Åbdul Qādir.
“Listen here, Åbdul Qadīr,” he began.
“It’s Åbdul Qādir,” came the reply.
“Åbdul Qadīr, Åbdul Qādir, whatever, it doesn’t matter. Maybe I’ll just call you ‘Cuck Musalmān Boy’ because that’s what you’re going to be,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar sneered. “Couple of things you need to be real clear about. When I go join your Musalmān girl in that bedroom, nothing can stop what’s going to happen. And what’s going to happen is that your cute little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān fiancée is going to get 10 inches of the thickest Hindu dick either one of you has ever seen. Bareback. I aim to stretch that Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot out and fill her so full of my Hindu cum that she’ll be dripping until tomorrow. She’s going to get the fucking of her life and she’s going to love every bit of it. You sit, and you watch, and you answer if spoken to, but you do not and will not control anything. Got it?”
Åbdul Qādir blanched.
“Yes,” he said quietly, “I’ve got it.”
“But, first Durgesh, not me.”
Åbdul Qadīr could not understand.
Yet he agreed more happily.
I was a blessing for Åbdul Qadīr as compared to Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Åbdul Qādir fell on my feet.
I was startled.
“Please, fuck Al Nauhīd Al Salīm yourself. Don’t let Shankar Mahāpralayankar humiliate me. Humiliate me yourself as Shankar Mahāpralayankar directs you, but never let that Hindu criminal beast touch my would be wife ever. Please Durgesh, I’d myself help you to fuck my entire extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies. I promise you.”
Åbdul Qādir started to weep.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar and Al Nauhīd Al Salīm both laughed.
That was what actually both of them wanted.
Åbdul Qādir was the actual target.
Al Lubnā Al Salīm herself didn’t want that Shankar Mahāpralayankar might even touch her younger sister, Al Nauhīd Al Salīm.
Yet, she wanted to degrade Åbdul Qādir immensely forever.
“Okay,” Al Lubnā Al Salīm laughed, “if you don’t want Shankar Mahāpralayankar touch your would be wife, it can be managed. Only Durgesh would fuck her. However, the terms and conditions would be somewhat more humiliating to you.”
Åbdul Qādir didn’t leave my feet.
“Whatsoever you damn please. Okay? Durgesh, she wouldn’t listen to me ever. But she would listen to you. Tell her I do agree with entire terms and conditions whatsoever she may propose. Only don’t turn Al Nauhīd Al Salīm into a whore. Only you fuck her, never Shankar Mahāpralayankar or anyone else.”
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled.
“I never knew, Åbdul Qādir, you loved Al Nauhīd Al Salīm to this extent.”
“You heartless, ever communal, ever anti Muslim Hindu beast, I know wherever there are any anti Muslim riots you always fight against us Musalmīn. You always fuck our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān womankind with your traditional Hindu brigade of communal anti Muslim beasts.”
“And you Musalmīn are innocent ever?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar sneered.
“I can’t control every Musalmān criminal, can I?”
“Åbdul Qādir,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar gritted his teeth, “Never think I don’t know you.”
“I hate you. You fucked me in my ass, I…”
“I fuck every wretched Musalmān in his damn Musalmān ass who ever acts against humanity.” Shankar Mahāpralayankar said furiously, “Åbdul Qādir, stop acting against humanity, I’d stop fucking you in your damn Musalmān ass.”
“Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!” Al Lubnā Al Salīm thundered at Shankar Mahāpralayankar, “Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Bhāījān, you can’t spare him so easily.”
“But Al Lubnā Al Salīm, my dear younger sister, he…”
Al Lubnā Al Salīm raised her right hand.
“That’s enough, Bhāījān, Åbdul Qādir is one of those Pseudo Musalmīn that always initiate Hindu Muslim rights on the temptations of dirty politicians. Al Nauhīd Al Salīm never loved him. Åbdul Qādir loved her, but Al Nauhīd Al Salīm never. Have I to tell you how inhumane Åbdul Qādir is?”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Midterm 2012 Volume 4
Kħātūn-e-Jannat Volume 3
Ved Nagar Volume 2
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid smiled.
“Walks, for one.”
“Walks?” Al Nādir Al Haibat asked feigning innocent ignorance.
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid wasn’t interested even a bit in his acting.
She was enjoying my Uncut Hindu Cock into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Her ever communal resistance against Hindu penetration had already gone to hell as soon as she realized I was available to her.
No doubt Durgesh had the unique penis.
The ever horniest Musalmān Beauties were not crazy for it worthlessly.
Durgesh had unique sexual prowess.
No doubt Durgesh can satisfy the entire womankind even sexually.
He had infinite sexual lust incredibly.
“A customer pays his bill directly at the cash register.” She said herself pushing her ever pink glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks into my nude Hindu male lap and swallowing my Uncut Hindu Prick into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt nonstop wildly, “The amount of the bill is two dollars and eighty five cents. He gives you a twenty dollar bill. You pretend to be very much interested in the addition on the check. Then apparently something goes wrong with the key on the cash register. You concentrate on that. Eventually you ring up two dollars and eighty five cents; still without apparently paying too much attention to him, you hand him fifteen cents, then give him two one dollar bills, then hand him a five, then look back at the cash register for a minute. Nine times out of ten the man will pocket the change and walk away. If he starts to pocket the change and then stops suddenly, or if he still waits there, you take out two additional fives and give it to him with a smile, then start looking back at the cash register again.”
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid wasn’t as unaware of Al Nādir Al Haibat’s immensely jealous, immensely greedy stealthy glances on her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt swallowing my ever arrogant ever proud Uncut Hindu Cock nonstop, as she was pretending to be.
The ever incurable male animal.
The very same Al Nādir Al Haibat was always heavily critical of Hindus and their ever horny Musalmān beloveds that they were still animals in their human bodies.
He always pretended to be a highly sophisticated ever righteous Musalmān.
He always criticized even the Musalmīn that were criminals and/or criminal minded.
But actually what he himself was?
He was a corrupt attorney himself protecting ever harmful gambling to humanity.
How much he really hated ashvinātam sex was more than obvious from his constant stealthy obsession of gazing Durgesh’s proud Hindu penetrations of her ever glamorous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Yet, he had control enough on himself to comment ironically, feigning sophistication still however.
“You seem to know all the tricks.”
“Sure, working at the place I couldn’t avoid to hear some of them.”
“And you sing?”
“Yes.” She said proudly.
Al Nādir Al Haibat nodded studying the young woman’s miraculously beautiful face sophisticatedly apparently.
Yet, even then he had managed dignified glances on our still nonstop sexual penetrations.
“You have had ups and downs?”
“Mostly downs,” Al Taufīq Al Zāhid said, “but I was in there fighting nonstop. I deserve to get the break Durgesh has bestowed on me despite Muħammad Ůsmān’s frantic attempts to frame me. I know now why Durgesh’s Musalmān women are so faithful to him despite the fact that Durgesh is a Hindu. He is honest and sincere to his Musalmān women more than their ever dishonest ever insincere Musalmān husbands and Musalmān mankind. You are jealous of Durgesh and us Musalmān Beauties, but you can’t separate us because no dishonest and insincere communalism can ever replace the ever sincere ever honest love of Durgesh for us. The more you ever dishonest ever insincere communal Musalmīn try to separate us from Durgesh, the more inseparable we are.”
If Al Nādir Al Haibat was angry, he successfully hid his anger.
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid led the way.
I was behind her glorious bottom, fucking her from behind.
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid was too afraid of Muħammad Ůsmān and Muħammad bin Qāsim that she wasn’t ready to come to Paradise Floats if I wasn’t fucking her.
The chief of police accompanied us.
Muħammad Ůsmān, striding forward, was checked by Al Nādir Al Haibat.
Laying a restraining hand on his client’s arm, Al Nādir Al Haibat drew Muħammad Ůsmān back to one side and engaged in rapid fire, low voiced conversation.
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid led the way into a room marked Employees, through a curtained doorway.
It had the word Female painted over the top.
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid paused before a locker.
I grabbed her waist, pulled my Uncut Hindu Cock until only its head was inside, absolutely prepared for thrusting it into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt as soon as there was any indication from Muħammad Ůsmān and party of any unfair play.
Muħammad Ůsmān knew how dangerous a weapon my infinite Musalmān Beauties and infinite lovely Musalmān houseladies penetrator Uncut Hindu Cock was when it was visiting any Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunt.
My Kundalini was active.
My infinite bodies were active.
With a simple affirmation now, I could immobilize even a whole infantry.
Muħammad Ůsmān had seen the demonstration with his own eyes several times.
However, he never believed a Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān woman and a Stavak Hindu man could do it.
There must be something else hidden behind carefully.
Nevertheless, Muħammad Ůsmān wasn’t a damn fool to take any risk now.
“Open it,” I said.
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid fitted a key and opened the locker.
In it, there was a suitcase, a pair of shoes, a suit and a raincoat.
“These all yours?” I asked fucking her once again.
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid nodded.
“Do you want to put these things in the suitcase?” I smiled at her possessively.
She thanked me with her eyes for displaying my sexual possession on her.
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid knew it was actually a disguised warning to everyone that s/he would have to face Durgesh’s powers if s/he tried to harm her in any manner whatsoever.
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid thanked her Allah for her incredible Musalmān beauty and prudence that she approached Durgesh on the right time.
“The things came that way,” she smiled politely at me, “They can go out that way,” she said.
“You have some other things?”
“There’s a stateroom assigned to us Musalmān girls,”
“Only Musalmān girls work here?”
“Most of the Pseudo Musalmīn are highly communal. They never believe anyone that’s not a Musalmān. Muħammad Ůsmān and Muħammad bin Qāsim do also belong to the category.”
“But Muħammad bin Qāsim is immensely friendly with his Hindu brother in law, his Hindu Jījū, Prañav Yogendr Divyānand.”
“Sure, they need Prañav Yogendr Divyānand. It doesn’t mean they aren’t communal. Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim loved Prañav Yogendr Divyānand. They hadn’t another alternative except to marry them.”
“We sleep there in the stateroom. It’s a sort of dormitory. Al Sādiyah Arraħmān, another girl and I share a stateroom. Muħammad Ůsmān wouldn’t let me get my things out of it last night. I was virtually thrown out.”*
I said gravely,
“Better start packing.”
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid pulled out the suitcase and flung back the lid.
“I think Al Taufīq Al Zāhid would like some privacy now to prepare to leave this place not to come back. I have to wait with her and—”
I broke off at the startled exclamation from Al Taufīq Al Zāhid.
“What is it?” I asked authoritatively.
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid instinctively started to close the lid of the suitcase, then checked herself.
“Let me take a look,” I said.
“I’ll take a look,” the chief of police said, pushing forward.
“What is it, Al Taufīq Al Zāhid?”
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid reopened the lid, then pulled forward the elastic that held closed one of the compartments in the lining of the suitcase.
A wad of currency had been thrust hurriedly into this compartment.
“I’ll take this into my custody.” the chief of police said triumphantly.
I moved so that I interposed a shoulder between the officer and the suitcase.
“Why?” I asked the chief of police curtly.
“Why?” the chief of police said sarcastically, “I want to know from where she got this wad of currency.”
“Who are you to ask it?”
“I happen to be the chief of police here.” He said ironically.
“Tell me the law, the section of it that authorizes a chief of police to investigate any money a person have in his/her possession even it’s his/her valid money legally earned by him/her.”
“It isn’t her money.”
“How do you know?”
“It stands to reason.”
“If she had that wad of currency of her own, she never needed to work here as a cigarette girl.”
“I don’t need to.”
Al Taufīq Al Zāhid was looking at me in questioning panic.
Allah! That was the reason she was afraid of Muħammad Ůsmān.
It wasn’t her money.
It was more than obvious that Muħammad Ůsmān had managed to put it there to frame her.*
I pushed my Uncut Hindu Penis entirely into Al Taufīq Al Zāhid’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
“Count it.” I said.
With trembling fingers, Al Taufīq Al Zāhid counted the money.
“Ten thousand seven hundred ninety nine dollars.” she said.
“Good,” I smiled, “We’ll give Muħammad Ůsmān credit for that on the amount of back wages due and our claims against him for defamation of character.”
Muħammad Ůsmān had quietly entered the stateroom with Al Nādir Al Haibat at his side.
Muħammad Ůsmān started to say something, but just then the curtained doorway was flung back with such violence cloth was almost ripped from the guide rings on the overhead pole.
A woman’s voice said angrily.
“Defamation of character, indeed! That’s a laugh—the kettle is calling the pot black, I’d say!”
Her eyes blazed hatred at Muħammad Ůsmān.
“But I didn’t come here to see that husband stealer. Let her take him. The bastard doesn’t deserve any true love, loyalty and faithfulness now. If the impotent thinks a cigarette girl and singer in a gambling yacht is better for him than even a multi-millionaire Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wife, let him have her. I damn care. I came here to see you, Mr. Muħammad Ůsmān. Just what do you think you are doing with my hard earned money that bastard lost to you?”
“Why, Ma’am Al Saåīdah Al Wājid!” Muħammad Ůsmān said, stepping forward and smiling cordially.
Then he glanced at me.
“I should have known you better. You can’t strike masculine ever. Before coming to strike on me, you investigated about my antagonists. You found Ma’am Al Saåīdah Al Wājid is one of them. And you managed her entry here when you are here too.”
“Anything wrong with that strategy?” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid said curtly, “Mr. Mayor has promised me to fight my case against you bloody gamblers.”
“So, your husband, Al Wājid Al Muħammad, is right that you have a clandestine extramarital affair with Durgesh?” Muħammad Ůsmān smiled trying to humiliate Al Saåīdah Al Wājid.
“What if I do?” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid said curtly, “I’m not under eighteen, nor you are my legal guardian. Who the hell are you to ask that question on my personal life? Now, you have charged me being a cheater to my husband. I would take you to the court, to prove what you just said. One more case of Defamation of character against you, stupid. Mr. Durgesh is my attorney too, in both the cases against you.”
Muħammad Ůsmān was dumbfounded.
He wasn’t prepared for so many legal attacks.
He should have known better than to antagonize me.*
Nevertheless, Muħammad Ůsmān tried to grab the state of affairs.
“This is—that is—we aren’t really open for business yet. I had some people come in and—Come on with me and I’ll buy a drink.”
Al Saåīdah Al Wājid ignored Muħammad Ůsmān’s proffered hand, said furiously,
“You’ve trimming my husband, Al Wājid Al Muħammad, in a crooked game here. He does not earn as much money himself as he loses in his damn gambling to you. That’s my money. He told me you took him for ten thousand dollars last night. It was natural I investigated about you. I found out your wife, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, has cuckolded you to herself, Durgesh and her younger sister, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah. I enjoyed the state of affairs, naturally.”
Muħammad Ůsmān was dumbfounded.
His wife, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, wasn’t so much a problem to him, as her younger sister, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah, was.
She was too cunning that she raped Durgesh himself, kidnapping him.
It wasn’t an easy task.
Yet, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah had done it successfully.
Once, Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah loved her husband, Muħammad Ůsmān, very much.
But, now even Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah fucked Durgesh in front of Muħammad Ůsmān’s own very eyes and made Muħammad Ůsmān to clean her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, licking it, after she fucked Durgesh.
Muħammad Ůsmān had to lick not only his wife’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
He had to lick her gorgeous Musalmān ass as well, after Durgesh fucked Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah in her ass too.
Then he similarly had to lick her sister, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt and ass as well, after Durgesh fucked Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah too.
It wasn’t good that Al Saåīdah Al Wājid had known it.
Now, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid had the winning hand on Muħammad Ůsmān completely.
He never fights conventionally.
He always digs out of the enemies of his opponents.
And then those enemies fight Durgesh’s war for the ever shrewdest Hindu, Durgesh never needs to fight it himself.
Muħammad Ůsmān could never understand how many shrewd persons died when Durgesh was born.
“Ten thousand dollars aren’t such a big money that I should waste my more precious time in its recovery.” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid said, “But if my business competitors knew the stupids like you can manage to snatch away such money from my husband, it would harm my reputation before them. Consequently, I haven’t another option except to have my money back.”
“Back? I can’t believe it.” Muħammad Ůsmān said incredulously.
“I’m not asking you to believe it. I’m asking you to return it.” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid said patiently, “You should have known better than cutting corners with me, Muħammad Ůsmān. I’ve engaged Durgesh to investigate your criminal activities extensively and see you get punished for them.”
Muħammad Ůsmān was dumbfounded.
What the hell it’s happening?
“Madam, Al Saåīdah Al Wājid,” he addressed her soothingly, “Your husband was in a little private game last night. I don’t know how he came out. I believe that perhaps he did lose a little, but I haven’t tried to figure up just how much. I can assure you that the game was on the up and up. I was in it myself. If we gambled with people at night, let them take a chance on winning the place, and then, if they aren’t lucky, gave them back the money they had lost the next morning, it wouldn’t be very long before I’d be selling apples on the street corner.”
Muħammad Ůsmān laughed at the idea, his mouth making the laughter, his eyes anxiously watching her, appraising her mood.
“And what’s wrong in it?” Al Saåīdah Al Wājid smiled sweetly, “That’s where actually you belong to. And Wallāh, Muħammad Ůsmān, I promise you to put there. I never forgive the stupids who try to harm me even a bit, knowingly or unknowingly. As a policy, I spend millions to punish them so that no another dumb ass would ever think to come in my way. Durgesh is already retained to make you learn the lesson in the hardest way possible for you.”
“Allah,” Muħammad Ůsmān said impatiently, “what the hell do you want?”
“I want our money back, damn fool, what else? My husband isn’t very good businessperson as I am. That’s money he earned, however. We have other uses for it than to giving it to you. I intend to give it to Durgesh as the expense money he may use for destroying you financially. What the hell you think of me? I would let you cheap crooks rob us of that money and to get away with it?”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
What a pleasant change!
We both redressed to a degree of decency as I marched upstairs.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān, now decent but still looking delectable, went to the front door.
Unusually she asked who was there and got a querulous reply from Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad announcing herself.
Maybe it was more hesitant a voice.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān opened the door just a little, not sure what she was going to face.
“Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān, may I come and talk with you, please?”
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān recalled her anger when she threw Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad out but felt some remorse immediately.
The presence of Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad in a light summer frock softened Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān immediately.
“Oh, do come in Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad, I’m really glad you’ve come round to see me.”
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad took in Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān, scanning her body in the summer frock she had picked out so carefully as projecting softness and openness to the woman she had had advances from.
She didn’t want to spoil this occasion with another rejection.
With the door closed, they stood very near each other with no more words expressed.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān raised her hand to Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s cheek and caressed it.
As soon as she did that, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad fell into Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s arms and lapsed into a flood of tears in relief that she hadn’t been rejected.
Slowly, Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān led Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad into the same room she and I had been getting off on and was privately relieved she hadn’t got the vibrator out with me.
I witnessed it all and it did nothing to dampen my Hindu erection.
I would have doffed a hat at Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s rapid adjustment of her behavior.
I moved again so I could still see what was happening between them.
Once in the room and still standing, Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān lifted Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s face by her chin.
She saw a harrowed woman whose eyes betrayed even more sadness than she had endured.
Taking Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s cheeks in each hand, she drew her lips to her own and pressed them to her hoped for lover’s.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad responded by bringing her arms around Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s back and clinging to her as if it were her only chance.
Their tongues sought each other.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad wasn’t holding back and Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān sensed this.
Each other’s hands were all over buttocks, thighs, waists, shoulders.
Now Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān stepped back to view her lover, still holding her by her shoulders.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān decided that now it was not the moment for restraint.
She was going to put Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad to the test, to assess her commitment, real or feigned.
Withdrawing her arms she stood directly facing her.
Taking her frock buttons one by one, there must have been a dozen, she commenced to unbutton her top.
First thing she noted was the absence of a bra, but she didn’t open her up immediately as she got beyond her breast, merely her delightful cleavage to her ever erect Musalmān breasts.
Continuing and getting what she thought was approval, she came across a lovely pink silk suspender belt, so old fashioned but delightful.
Next was the slight plumpness of her lower tummy held in somewhat by her belt.
On and down and the first glimpse of hair voluminous and untouched with a very few speckles of grey amongst her dark brown hairs.
Then on downwards to soft white thighs, still close together but so inviting and on to her light brown silk stockings held up by those lovely garters.
Her unbuttoning was complete.
“Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad, I want you to open your frock for me, please.”
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad took each side of her frock, lifted it off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor.
I was watching all this from my vantage point outside the room.
I didn’t let Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān see me squeezing myself for self-control at this view of Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad and her new lover.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad just stood before Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān a little uncertain of herself but now beyond a point of return.
She stood in her low heels, stockings and pretty suspender belt waiting for a move from Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān moved closer but not embracing Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad.
Instead she took her right index finger and placed it with firmness on Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot hairs.
With her other hand she took one breast and softly ran the flat of her other hand across Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s nipple.
Simultaneously she licked Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s lips with her own wet tongue.
All this was so brazen to Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad she was not quite sure of Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān was mocking her vulnerability.
She nearly retreated, it was so shameless.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān hadn’t even opened her gown.
Gradually, though this was happening in seconds, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad tried to detract from herself even though the hands were doing their work on her very effectively.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad asked if Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān would like to undress her.
“I’d love that Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad.”
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad only had to tug the loose knot that held Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s gown together.
It immediately gave way.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad took the liberty of drawing the silk gown apart.
She was taken away by the sheer beauty of Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s breast, much larger than hers not even sagging yet while she was even much older.
Scanning her body she took in Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s pantyhose and even noted that it was torn at her crotch.
She noted that but said nothing.
She pushed the gown off her shoulders so they were both near naked but so ravishing together.
“Play with me, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad, I need you badly.” Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad responded by running her hands tentatively over Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s full breasts, teasing her nipples and not regretting her move to come and see Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān took one of Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s hands and pressed it through the handmade hole created just moments ago for her and my pleasure.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad allowed her hand to be pushed into another woman’s extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot for the first time in years since she had been with Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān felt wet and wonderful as she explored her swollen extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Clit and lower down to her extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her movements had their effect on Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān who hadn’t remained passive but had recommenced her caressing of Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s body.
Feeling assertive again she moved Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad backwards so that Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad was forced to retreat and fall back onto the couch.
Laying her out with her extremely beautiful immensely smooth Musalmān thighs wide open, Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān ran her hands along Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s thighs beyond her stocking tops and began licking round Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s creases between her extremely beautiful immensely smooth Musalmān thighs and buttocks.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān was impatient.
She felt a need to seduce her so they would become lovers and so satisfy a long lost need.
Taking the succulent bait, Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān slid her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tongue in between those hairy covered but soaking labia into her inner lips and then onto her dark pink mound of flesh she knew instinctively Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad would love.
Quickly she brought her to a crescendo as she tongued her deftly around her swollen extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Clit.
She quickly found that Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad liked the indirect sliver of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tongue to the direct absorption of Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s extremely beautiful excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Clit on her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tongue
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad could not take in that she had finally given her body to Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān and she had no regrets.
As Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān ran her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tongue round her little pinnacle, Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad reacted by letting go as well as holding Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s head so she couldn’t retreat.
“Oh Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān my love, I’m so glad I came to you. Hold me I’m cumming now, now, Allah, fuck, oh yes, yes.”
She continued screaming although she was slowly winding down from the best cum in years.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān slowly withdrew.
She knew she had done what she wanted.
She hadn’t cum herself yet but no hurry.
What to do if I was still in the house?
She looked round and saw me in the hallway.
She signaled me to get upstairs for she sensed Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad had not planned to stay so long, only to make up.
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad did indeed withdraw, apologizing for leaving so quickly and so selfishly after having her needs met but not Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s.
She promised to make it up to her and Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān held her to it.
What she hadn’t told Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān was that she wanted to be with Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s husband’s friend this evening despite her new found love.
I came downstairs.
Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān was still in a state of physical disarray and sexual need but she was also aware that I must be in a right state.
“Durgesh, do what you were going to do before we were interrupted. Come again soon so we can take our time and fuck because I too myself want you.”
“Are you okay with that, Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān?”
With that I stood over her rather exhausted body, fucked Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān in countless sex positions she had ever dreamed off.
She fucked me even more vigorously than even I fucked her.
I let Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān even win me in this competition deliberately.
I wanted her to forget lesbianism forever.
She demanded anal sex too.
I obliged Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān.
“I’m immensely grateful and indebted to you, Durgesh. My bastard Musalmān husband never fucked me in my ass. He even never allowed me to suck him. I was never satisfied consequently absolutely. It made me gradually to hate even the entire mankind immensely. I had no other option except to surrender to lesbianism. Now, you have satisfied me in sex in every possible way I wanted to. Would you oblige me in the same way for the rest of my life? You are the ever first real man in my life. I would be immensely obliged, grateful and indebted to you, if you keep fucking me from now on till I exist.”
I kissed Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān still fucking her wildly.
“Don’t worry, Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān. I promise you that. That’s what I am made for, I think.”
Ultimately I let lose my long delayed sperm into her Musalmān Choot once more.
Kissing each other she let me out to satisfy Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad.
I ran round the vicinity in the opposite direction from home, so as to ensure Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad, I had been out for a run.
On arrival at home, I had built up a sweat to be more convincing.
In fact, I had enjoyed the immense fuck and my Hindu cum ultimately, into Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s ever ardent Musalmān Choot.
I would have liked to have more time with her but I also wanted to get back to see how Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad would be reacting to her new lover that afternoon.
I found Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad in the kitchen preparing some odds and ends for supper for both of us.
She had removed her heels and stockings and was working around the kitchen in her bare feet.
Glancing at Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad from her side, I noticed that she had removed her bra as well, for her ever erect huge beautiful Musalmān breasts now had their natural wilt but were still full in her thin frock even though she was displaying them pendulum style.
I felt a small surge below.
Eīshān, I just dropped my load into Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān, and now Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s got me going.
What is going on?*
Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad was in a calm and lovely mood, saying little, but happy with me, sitting around doing little, but sipping a beer from the fridge and enjoying the evening, both grazing rather than eating a full meal.
She hadn’t even mentioned being at Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān’s this afternoon.
I also had a sense that she hadn’t washed herself after being with Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān, just removed her underwear.
She bent down to reach into the fridge for another gin and tonic for herself.
Her frock tightened round her excellent exquisite gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks.
Gorgeous view for her 64 year old Hindu lover.
And no she wasn’t wearing panties either, just like this afternoon.
Without even a hint of flirt Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad was just perfectly relaxed from her frantic cum with Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān.
She gave me no hint of our sexual sojourns with each other.
However, I did notice she had little energy and at one stage she fell into a two minute nap.
I decided I would encourage her to go to bed.
She looked emotionally exhausted, no doubt from her charged feelings for Al Kulsūm Al Ůsmān.
We watched TV for some time rather desultorily which put her in the mood for bed.
Kissing me lightly on my lips she wished me a good night and retired.
I decided to watch one of my DVDs I’d shared with Al Rashīdah Al Zahīr, got nice and horny and then went up to bed myself passing Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad’s room on the way.
She had left the door slightly ajar and was fully asleep with a light duvet for cover.
I rang my sexy Al Rashīdah Al Zahīr and filled her in on the story so far.
I couldn’t have had the same story for My friend’s wife, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad.
She wouldn’t have been able to cope with what was going on between Al Åāyeshah Al Siddīqah Al Muħammad and myself.
She wanted to have me for herself only, exclusively, though she herself had a husband too.
“Husband?” Al Fātimah Al Muħammad laughed, “Do you still think Ålī Muħammad is my husband? Why the hell I was a virgin when you fucked me in my Shab-e-Ůrūsī?”
“You should haven’t called him an impotent, Al Fātimah Al Muħammad. Who can bear that his newly wed wife call him impotent even in their Shab-e-Ůrūsī, in their Golden Night itself?”
“Oh, that?” Al Fātimah Al Muħammad asked me bitterly.
“Yes,” I said curtly, fucking Al Fātimah Al Muħammad wildly from her ever glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān behind, “that.”
Al Fātimah Al Muħammad was herself thrusting her ever glorious ever glamorous ever whitish pink ardent Musalmān buttocks towards my nude Hindu lap, filling it with her ever glorious ever glamorous ever whitish pink ardent Musalmān buttocks, repetitively, constantly, endlessly.
We both loved this sex position immensely.
We fucked mostly in it usually.
“What should have I done?” Al Fātimah Al Muħammad laughed ironically, “The bastard had undressed me fully. I had undressed him fully. He had kissed and even licked my entire nude Musalmān body, including my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, buttocks, ass too. Yet his cut Musalmān nūnī was still not erect even a bit, not even stirred. What should have I called him instead of an impotent, a stallion, a stud?”
I kept my patience fucking her as usual,
“Hadn’t Ålī Muħammad told you that Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Rājesh Rājpūt and some other communal anti-Muslim Hindus fuck him in his almost femininely beautiful ardent Musalmān ass?”
Al Fātimah Al Muħammad smiled, smirked and laughed.
“Yes, he told me that Shankar Mahāpralayankar, Rājesh Rājpūt and some other communal anti-Muslim Hindus fuck him in his almost femininely beautiful ardent Musalmān ass. But he told me his cut Musalmān nūnī was always erect when they fuck him in his ass. They laughed over it thinking he was enjoying their Uncut Hindu Lund in his utmost feminine Musalmān ass very much.”
“And you decided to marry Ålī Muħammad, didn’t you?”
“Yes, because I sympathized with him. He told me his cut Musalmān nūnī was erect but it was a dirty lie.” Al Fātimah Al Muħammad said contemptuously.*
I looked at Al Fātimah Al Muħammad bitterly.
“No, it was not, never. Ålī Muħammad is a victim of circumstances. He isn’t and never was a terrorist.”
“Because Ålī Muħammad lets you fuck his extremely beautiful Ammīs, his extremely beautiful Kħālās, his extremely beautiful Buās, his extremely beautiful Chachīs, his extremely beautiful Mumānīs, his extremely beautiful sisters, his extremely beautiful cousins, his extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies.” Al Fātimah Al Muħammad said sarcastically.
“It’s not any big deal now.” I smiled urbanely, “Nowadays, it’s a virtue that I fuck a Musalmān lady, not a vice. Hadn’t you invited your Ammījān yesterday to join us while we were fucking and your Ammījān just innocently walked in?”
Al Fātimah Al Muħammad laughed.
“Ammījān hadn’t come there innocently.” Al Fātimah Al Muħammad smiled cunningly, “Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah, my Ammījān is a cabinet minister now in the new NDA Government. She is as cunning as Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Safiyah Al Ghaus. Never underestimate my Ammījān. She came deliberately to get fucked by you immensely once more, after you fucked her the day before yesterday.”
“How do you know?” I smiled cunningly myself.
Al Fātimah Al Muħammad laughed openly.
“You ever naughtiest ever impish 64 years old Hindu scoundrel, you yourself wanted to fuck my Ammījān, Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah, once more. Didn’t you?”
I kept smiling cunningly as well as fucking Al Fātimah Al Muħammad wildly too.
“Well, it was only a courtesy fucking, only honoring your Ammījān’s immense Musalmān beauty, when I fucked her in that inaugural function.”
“A courtesy fucking, only honoring my Ammījān’s immense Musalmān beauty?” Al Fātimah Al Muħammad laughed, “You ever naughtiest ever impish 64 years old Hindu scoundrel, you were there to inaugurate her granddaughter’s Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Choot. Yet you fucked the granddaughter less than you fucked her extremely beautiful Ammī and even more beautiful grandmother, my Ammījān, Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah.”
“Well,” I said innocently, “what could I do? Your niece, Al Islam Al Qāsim Al Muħammad, couldn’t bear my then nine inches long immensely lusting Uncut Hindu Lund into her Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Choot, any longer. Your Bhābhījān, Al Tihārat Al Islam and your Ammījān, Dr. Al Kħadījah Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah, offered themselves to replace your Just Eighteen Just Adult niece, Al Islam Al Qāsim Al Muħammad. I couldn’t disgrace them by not accepting their so kind and immensely honoring me offers. Moreover, Your Just Eighteen Just Adult niece, Al Islam Al Qāsim Al Muħammad, was afraid of bleeding too.”
“Nonsense, Al Islam Al Qāsim Al Muħammad complained to me that her Ammī and her GrandAmmī didn’t let her get fucked by you optimum while it was her own Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Choot’s inaugural function. You were specifically invited there to fuck her, not her Ammī and her GrandAmmī. You ever naughtiest ever impish 64 years old Hindu scoundrel. You still love to have mature Musalmān Cunts more, swallowing your Uncut Hindu Lund, than Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Cunts, despite Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s and her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah Brigade’s ever constant efforts.”
1. More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Indexes: Creative Adult Sex: Durgesh
1. Ahal-Al Bayt
10. Midterm 2012
13. The Yacht
14. The Audacity
18. The Chairman
19. The Oath
21. Majājī Kħudā
37. Ammi, you too?
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs drove around the corner, backed up in a driveway, turned the car, came back to place it against the curb, and switched off the motor.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt once more and looked at Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
Why the hell doesn’t Al Nadīm Al Quddūs divorce her?
Can’t he understand Al Safiyah Al Ghaus would never come back to him now?
Is he one of the damn fools enough that can adjust with their cuckolding even, because they can’t manage to separate and antagonize their extremely beautiful ever smart richer Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wife?
Most of the Musalmīn are managing now with their cuckold status to their Musalmān wives and Durgesh/their Musalmān wives’ Hindu lover(s).
Because their Musalmān wives can blackmail them now successfully more than they could before?
Because their Musalmān wives are now richer and more resourceful than their cuckold Musalmān husbands, and their cuckold Musalmān husbands can’t win them in any way?
She controlled however herself and smiled at Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
“I’ll give it to you in a nutshell, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. You can figure what must have happened. In the first place, my brother in law, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, was so afraid of us…”
“Us?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said scornfully, “So afraid of us? Never.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at him,
“He was.” She said, “He was so afraid of me, at least, that despite Durgesh’s every assurance, he never agreed to continue as it was. Neither he wanted even his son, Muħammad bin Qāsim, to stay where I could reach or watch him.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at me, then he looked at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus again,
“Your new husband, Durgesh, planned it all?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wanted to humiliate Al Safiyah Al Ghaus by calling me her new husband.
But she was Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, too far inaccessible to Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
She cooed, instead of feeling humiliated.
“Thanks for calling Durgesh my new husband. I love it.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs gritted through his teeth.
“You are right.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled energetically, “Durgesh had everything all planned, down to the smallest detail. He had even instructed Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim not to sneak any of their clothes out of the house so they could have a dry change.”
“Why?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked bitterly.
“Elementary, my dear Watson,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus winked at him, “because both of them were insured and the insurance companies were going to make a thorough investigation.”
“Even if they pin it on Al Zohrah Al Bittol and Al Taufīq Al Fatimah?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her incredulously.
“No matter what they do.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was enjoying her theory, “The insurance companies are going to look into the thing. A huge amount is involved in both the cases separately. The murder stories in both the cases are improbable as hell. If in their investigation, they find anything that looks like collusion, conspiracy, their fat will really be in fire.”
“I don’t get it.”
“It’s this way,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “As far as the police are concerned, they are perfectly willing to make murders out of it. It’s Ved Nagar. The police are managed by Ved Nagar administration already.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed,
“You are forgetting that Ved Nagar isn’t confined to India only. It has infinite levels, both visible and invisible. Every level here is divided rigidly by a horizontal layer of fifty square miles of Hirañý metal, utmost hardest metal ever found by humankind, resting upon some countless steel girdered pillars.”*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cunningly,
“I am not forgetting anything, my child. Your Ammī, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, wasn’t born yesterday. Just listen to your Ammī and appreciate. The insurance companies have extended their branches everywhere. Haven’t they?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus,
“What do you mean?”
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim are criminals/criminal minded Musalmīn. They hadn’t acquired their billions through legal means.”
“I don’t agree with you.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said heatedly.
“As if I still care what the damn you do.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said acidly.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her, but he was too angry to her now, to respond.
“The insurance companies act somewhat different from the police.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said shrewdly, “The police investigate murders while the insurance companies are always afraid of a collusion between husband and wife. In both the cases the wives of the victims are involved. Al Zohrah Al Bittol is Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s wife, even if she is on anticipatory bail and the police can’t arrest her. Al Taufīq Al Fatimah has her husband’s duly signed affidavit that she is not responsible for his murder. Someone was implicating her already, deliberately, even when Muħammad bin Qāsim was alive. In fact, there must be some finicky Pseudo Musalmīn who didn’t want her to appear in the porn movies she was adamant to do with Durgesh. She married Muħammad bin Qāsim on that condition. Moreover, it was also a condition that Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had to direct that porn movie. By staging their fake murders Muħammad bin Qāsim has got rid of making that porn movie for his wife, Al Taufīq Al Fatimah, with Durgesh as her leading hero, and Al Muħammad Al Qāsim has got rid of to direct it.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled,
“I have already written the entire screenplay of the movie and Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim had already paid me fully for the same.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled bitterly.*
I kept silence.
There was no use in interfering.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was enjoying that she had compelled Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim, both, to run away from her ultimately, despite the fact that I was personally helping them.
“The first thing the insurance companies do is to start looking around for collusion.”
It was as if a solo performance for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Even Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wasn’t interested in criticizing her any more.
He had realized its futility.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan with her.
And apparently it was her victory now that both Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim had run away.
She was already the Conservator.
Until now, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had won the battle for Al Safiyah Al Ghaus even against me.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was sure it could not be the final.
Durgesh was certainly playing some deep game.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was also worried.
“Our ever cunning Hindu husband can’t be that dumb, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.”
“You are right, Naåīmah,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said worriedly, “Durgesh can’t be that dumb.”*
Neither it was easy to get conservatorship nor to maintain it.’
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd was in Durgesh’s Live in relationship now.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had certainly learned how to protect his extremely beautiful niece’s interests.
“I know now that they were schemers.” Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd told me, “But it’s too late now.”
“Nothing is too late ever.” I pushed my ever utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Cock into Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd’s comparatively too young ardent Musalmān Cunt, “keep your thinking positive always. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim told me everything, yet he slipped somewhere in acting on my scheme exactly as I told him. Otherwise Al Safiyah Al Ghaus could never had been appointed conservator by a court of justice.”
Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd kissed me on my Hindu male lips.
Despite there were so many problems, she was confident now that she was safe.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, her dangerously beautiful step Ammī, had succeeded in blackening her ever pious, ever sacred character before her Abbū’s eyes, but her uncle, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, understood Al Safiyah Al Ghaus very well.
She was a gold digger.
It was soon known that Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā had appointed Al Safiyah Al Ghaus the conservator.
They got their order from Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā.
The order appointing Al Safiyah Al Ghaus as conservator for the estate of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was made when Al Safiyah Al Ghaus qualified with a bond with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s help, and immediately proceeded to take charge.
“All right,” I looked at Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, “I happen to oblige Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s secretary.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled,
“She has her boyfriend cheated? I never knew.”
I smiled cunningly.
“It’s always a matter of impulse, Al Hudā. Her boyfriend couldn’t provide her such a legendary unique sex that I can. She loves her boyfriend very much. They are soon to marry each other too. But on the impulse of the moment, a very single moment, Al Kubrā Al Qur’an found she was absolutely alone with me. She grabbed my Penis. I never refuse to any lady when she needs me to that extent.”
“You fucked Al Kubrā Al Qur’an?” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī’s beautiful Musalmān eyes brightened, “wow, I never knew. She always criticizes you.”
“Well,” I kept smiling cunningly at Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī, “There are so many young ladies who keep criticizing me, yet whenever they themselves get a chance, they never miss it. They always fuck me belligerently and then call it only an animal surge. An exception to their normal life. They say I am too greatest a temptation to resist if there’s a chance.”
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī laughed,
“The bloody ever hypocrite bitches. Never miss any chance to fuck you, yet never equally miss any chance to criticize you too that you must not surrender to every sexual demand from the women on impulse. Hahaha.”
I kept smiling,
“Let them have their own kind of fun, Al Hudā. Ultimately they are not harming me even a bit. Let them fuck me whenever they can, and criticize me when they don’t.”
“You mean they are actually jealous of us, your other lady friends who enjoy sex with you, not clandestinely?”
I tolerated the obvious,
“Al Kubrā Al Qur’an stays in Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s chambers until twelve thirty. Ring her and find out if Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā hasn’t any important appointment at one thirty. I want to see him personally on this conservatorship matter. If he doesn’t have any legal problem to meet, I want to see him personally before he goes on the bench this afternoon. Tell him it’s very important.”*
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā came bustling into his chambers.
“Hello, Durgesh, the greatest…”
“Nonsense,” I smiled.
“Well,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā laughed, “I don’t agree with you. It’s a fact whether you admit it or not, out of your courtesy, that you are the most important person now. The Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act is being opposed by some communal Brāhmañs, being represented by yourself.”
“Cut it,” I raised my hand, “your United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations have snatched away the Swayamvar right of your Brahm Padminīs. You have actually surrendered to Bhr’gu Kālchakrānsh, Bhr’gu time slot, without fighting with it. Padminī Bhārgav hasn’t any right whatsoever…”
“I am a Judge, Durgesh. I am not a law maker. I am only a responsible citizen of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations . If my Creations decides that no Brahm Padminī is any more for anyone except you, it’s all right with me. If I don’t like Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act, well, I am free to leave United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. Am I not?”
“Your Brahm Padminī wives…”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā raised his hand,
“They are not my wives any longer. They are Brahm Jagdambās now, please! Every Brahm Padminī who the heck ever she is, now is your wife constitutionally if she is a citizen of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. If she doesn’t want it, well, she can surrender her citizenship to United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations anytime she damn chooses, anywhere. Nobody is snatching away her Swayamvar right. No, never. I don’t agree with you. I agree with the Constitution of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, as it’s amended to the benefits of its subject.”
I watched him scrutinizing.
“Okay,” I said at length, “I’m sorry to find that you have more faith in my ever communal Bhārgav wife, Padminī Bhārgav, than you have in me.”
“I respect you very much. But sorry, I have my constitutional obligations too.”
“I am surprised. Haven’t you any self-respect that…”
“Enough,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā raised his hand, “if we don’t have any other subject to discuss, will you please excuse me? I have many cases on my calendar to hear.”
“Okay, let’s discuss a conservatorship case then.” I said patiently, “I think perhaps I’m going to appear before you, in your court, on a contested matter. I don’t want to jeopardize your position or mine by discussing the case itself. Yet, I do want to get some history and, if possible, find out the reasoning back of an order you made in the case.”
“I see. What’s the case?”
“The matter of the Al Muħammad Al Qāsim conservator.”
“Why, I handled that just a couple of days ago.”
“I know you did.” I said gravely.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā looked at me shrewdly,
“You think there is anything wrong with the case?”
I looked at him impassively,
“Let’s not either of us discuss anything except the history, nevertheless, I would appreciate your thinking.”
“I doubt it.”
“I beg your pardon,”
“You never appreciated my thinking on Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act.”
“Should we again indulge into…”
“I’ll discuss any guardianship matter anytime,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said, “In those cases, the Court wants all the information it can get.
“Mind you, I don’t want you to tell me anything you feel should come before me by way of evidence in a contested matter. Nevertheless, I’m certainly willing to tell you how I felt.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā’s eagerness to hear me in this case, yet not even a bit in Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act, made me suddenly all alert.
So, Padminī Bhārgav had played a deeper game this time than I anticipated from her?
She had provided extremely beautiful Musalmān wives to every Brāhmañ that lost his Brahm Padminī wife to me due to Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act.
She did it successfully because she did it in collusion with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
They both got advantaged in this way.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had succeeded in deputizing her almost infinite Musalmān agents, ever loyal to her and her Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah, in United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations .
Padminī Bhārgav had found an ever loyal friend in Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
The Brāhmañ citizens of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations found ashvinātam sharīr yantrs for them.
They had got rid of their ever dominating Brahm Padminī wives too, for ever, without divorcing and paying any alimony whatsoever to them.
What was the harm in playing law abiding citizens and sacrificing human being too?
Were they not compensated financially too, optimum?
I controlled myself.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā was telling me continuously, *
I was all attention now.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is an old man.” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said, “He is confused. There is no question about that, he was incoherent.”
I didn’t contradict him.
It was neither the proper place for it, nor proper time.
It was the only relevant thing now to know about what the legal conspiracy was actually Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was facing only because he wanted to help Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd and Al Safiyah Al Ghaus didn’t.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was excited.” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā said, “He was emotional. Apparently he had made a check for ten million dollars to some young woman who had been living in the house with him.
“When we get a combination like that, we figure that something needs to be done. I appointed a conservator on a temporary basis only, with the statement that the Court would review it at any time any additional facts come up.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā stopped talking and looked at me,
“You feel that you have some other facts?”
“Sure,” I said.
“No problem,” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā smiled affably, “The order is subject to review with additional facts. Tomorrow morning at ten too early for you to present your facts?”
“I think not,” I myself smiled.
“I am not going to ask to have Al Muħammad Al Qāsim brought into Court. It may upset him, the Court hearing, I mean. I’ll take a look at any additional facts that are presented and then if I want to amend, suspend, modify the order I made, I’ll do it. That suits you?”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, one of the elder brothers of Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, was courtesy itself in a routine case.
But was it really a routine case?
As soon as the Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act was came into existence he immediately put his head on the feet of his Brāhmañ wives who were Brahm Padminīs.
His Brahm Padminī wives were dumbfounded.
“What are you doing? What the hell are you doing?” Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý involuntarily removed herself back immediately.
Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý smiled cunningly, mockingly and triumphantly.
“That’s very good. That’s right, Vishwambhar Sharmā. That’s the right place for you, my feet, our feet. I always said, you never deserved us.”
“Padm Chitrā,” Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý shouted angrily, “are you crazy? He is our husband after all.”
“Was.” Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý laughed mocking Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, “From now on, he is our son, am I right, my child?”
“Yes, Mātéshvarī.” Vishwambhar Sharmā controlled himself, looked at Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý affirming what Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý said, “The most discussed, most opposed, most despised, Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act has come into existence. We are not husband and wife now any longer.”
He paused for a moment, then beamed at his ex wives now.
“Congratulations. You are Brahm Jagdambās now with immediate effect. The Commission has already declared you Brahm Padminīs.”
“Look at him.” Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý said contemptuously, “I told you. Didn’t I? He inherited less genes from his Brāhmañ father and more genes from his Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mother, Dr. Al Tafsīr Al Qur’an PhD.”
“What do you mean, Mātéshvarī?” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, one of the elder brothers of Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, smiled teasing her.
“No Brāhmañ can surrender his ever faithful Satī and Pativratā Brāhmañ wives to a Bachhalyā Sex God so easily. Only the Musalmīn enjoy their cuckolding to their ever horniest Musalmān wives and their Hindu lover(s).” Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý said scornfully.
She even spat into a dustbin immensely contemptuously.
“You are Bar at law, Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý Mātéshvarī.” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā smiled sophisticatedly, almost teasing his ex wife, “You must never do such a blunder legal mistake. You must always differentiate between a Cuckold and a Divorcee.”
“Divorcee? My foot.” Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý shouted.
“That’s right. I put my head on your feet, didn’t I?” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā smiled sophisticatedly.
Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý marched furiously out of the room, saying,
“Look at him. How happy the damn fool is getting rid of us for ever.”
Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý watched after Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý worriedly.*
Fucking Vibhā Trivédī fiercely and enjoying it very much, I looked at Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý.
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý to be exactly correct.
I knew the woman on the witness stand was herself a legal wizard.
She was a High Court Justice while her husband was only a practicing Judge.
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý came out of the most respected, most successful legal family of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations.
Chief Justice Pralayankar Bhaŧŧāchārý was her father.
Justice Al Kamāl Al Fātimah was her real Ammī.
Justice Amanda Harrington was one of her very successful step mothers.
Justice Padmgandhā Bhaŧŧāchārý, Justice Kādambinī Bhaŧŧāchārý and Justice Alaknandā Bhaŧŧāchārý were her real sisters.
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý herself was deadly clever.
Despite the fact that Justice Padmgandhā Bhaŧŧāchārý, Justice Kādambinī Bhaŧŧāchārý and Justice Alaknandā Bhaŧŧāchārý, all the three of her real sisters, whom the Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Commission had declared Brahm Padminīs, had left their respective Brāhmañ husbands, Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý was still living with her ex husband Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā.
She loved Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā very much.
She had love married him, and now she was suddenly his ‘mother’.
It was not easy to digest it.
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý was stunned how easily Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā had accepted their new relationship.
I knew, unless I could shake her testimony, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, the defendant was going to be found guilty.
I had some surprises for the prosecution, yet it was obvious that the entire prosecution was heavily biased against my client.
I had to prove their bias legally.
And it was not easy.
There was hardly time to spring any surprise and capitalize on the confusion it would cause before five o’clock.
I couldn’t afford to flounder around, to struggle around, for twenty minutes with some aimless cross examination.
The already heavily biased jury would retire for the weekend firmly convinced that Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý’s testimony should be taken at face value.
District Attorney, Vibhā Trivédī, was smiling triumphantly, cunningly.
Her already impish back, forth, and again back movements of her glorious nude Trivédī Brāhmañ bottom became more impish and more fierce now.
Now, I wasn’t fucking the Trivédī Brahm Padminī District Attorney.
She was fucking me instead.
I addressed Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý,
“Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý,” I smiled courteously.
“I object your honor, he may be the defense attorney in the present case, but, Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý is a Brahm Padminī. The defense attorney must pay proper respect to his rather new Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā wife. They may be husband and wife in their personal life, but here…”
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý was stunned.
Hey Bhagvān, God, the bloody District Attorney, Vibhā Trivédī, wants Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý to have her Golden night, hell, Golden Day instead, with the Brahm Hr’dayéshvar, Durgesh, right here in the Court.
It took most of her energy not to look horrified.
After all, Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý was a High Court Justice.
“What do you want Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā?” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā asked Vibhā Trivédī respectfully.
“The honorable defense attorney must undress Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý and honor her by kissing her Brahm Padminī Bhaŧŧāchārý Brāhmañ Cunt.” Vibhā Trivédī proposed politely.
I looked at the Judge.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā looked at me gravely.
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý smiled at me sophisticatedly,
“Well, Bachhalyā Piyā, I think we should oblige the herself Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā District Attorney. Please, come on.”
The Courtroom was suddenly filled with beaming happiness and vivacity.
Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý suddenly stood, looked at Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý scornfully and tried to march out of the courtroom.
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā stopped her.
He ordered the security incharge present there.
“Stop her. Nobody would leave the Court now until and unless Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý is not honored completely by her BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ new Bachhalyā husband. It’s the order of the Court.”
Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý smiled cunningly.
“It’s alright, security incharge. I assure the honorable Court that I was only going out to use ladies’ personal. I wasn’t leaving the court in any protest whatsoever the Court has suspected.”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā looked at her gravely.
“Very well, Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý can use the ladies personal. The Court order is to stop anyone from disrespecting Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý.”
I projected my one more body.*
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý greeted me.
“Why the hell did you surrender?” I whispered to her, “They are clearly blackmailing you. And you are, being even a High Court Justice…”
“I need you.” Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý whispered to me back, “Can’t you see what they are doing? Vibhā Trivédī isn’t a District Attorney only. She is the girl behind the campaign that made Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act possible.”
“Thank God, she herself is Brahm Padminī and you are already fucking her now.”
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý put her beautiful arms around my neck and kissed me on my lips passionately.
“You must have given me a chance at least to save your love and honor.”
“Thank you.” Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý grabbed my Penis and squeezed it significantly, “But you can’t help me now any way. The Act has been enforced already. “Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, my husband is a law abiding citizen, and a finicky one exactly. You are trying to save my younger brother in law, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, and his wife, Pragyā Agnihotrī, but they are already working on another scheme. Undress me.”
“Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý,”
“Undress me, I say, before they suspect that we both don’t want to make love to each other. You are not helping Pragyā Agnihotrī and Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā alone, you are even helping me too.”
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý had herself started to undress me.
Soon we both were naked and hugging and kissing each other passionately.
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý was playing with my Penis.
I kissed her Bhaŧŧāchārý Brāhmañ Cunt.
“Your body is still athletic.” I appreciated her body.
“We have to compete with the ever horniest Musalmān Beauties of yours. We have to take care of our bodies more if we really want to get a responsible life partner for us.”
“They have their Panjvaqtah Namāz to take care of their already excellent ardent Musalmān female bodies in ever excellent shape. We have to do it by athletics.”
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý kissed my Penis, licked it and then started to suck it passionately.
I couldn’t believe she was performing an act only, for the benefit to others, to show them that she had accepted me her new Bachhalyā husband.
It was something more I was getting.
Eīshān, Does her body need my masculine response if not her brain even?*
District Attorney Vibhā Trivédī gritted through her teeth,
“What?” I penetrated her Brahm Padminī Trivédī Brāhmañ Cunt fiercely with my rock hard Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund.
It reached to the mouth of her womb.
“Hey Bhagvān,” Vibhā Trivédī controlled herself from screaming with tremendous efforts, “you keep forgetting that I am a Trivédī Brahm Padminī, Bachhalyā scoundrel. If you keep pounding into me this way, soon my Brahm Padminī Trivédī Brāhmañ Cunt would not remain of any use of your ever savage Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund.”
“Sālī,” I continued fucking Vibhā Trivédī as fiercely as before, “if you can’t even bear my ever strong, Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund, into your ever delicate Trivédī Brahm Padminī Brāhmañ Cunt, why the hell you helped Padminī Bhārgav in passing the Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act? What do you think, the other Brahm Padminīs can bear it? They don’t have their Brahm Padminī Brāhmañ Cunts as delicate as you yourself have?”
“As if Padminī Bhārgav is as democratic as you are,” Vibhā Trivédī said furiously, “if she had even suspected I don’t agree with her in her Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Project, she would have thrown me somewhere in so much darkness, I would have died struggling to get a ray of light even.”
“I see,” I said gravely, fucking her somewhat slowly now, “so you are not her friend because you have similar thoughts to Padminī Bhārgav? Instead, you are her friend in her right and wrong because you are afraid she’d destroy you otherwise?”
“Well,” Vibhā Trivédī said meekly, “I’d never accept it before Padminī Bhārgav, but between you and me, you are entirely correct. Thanks for fucking me moderately now. I can’t bear what your Practical Chief Wife Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan can.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is thirty two only, you idiot.”
“You forgive Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan for her ever aggressive nudism and feminism?”
“She is fighting successfully with the terrorists, criminals and criminal minded Musalmīn. She has even cuckolded them. Even the Musalmān Underworld has surrendered to her.”
Vibhā Trivédī laughed.
“Not, if it wasn’t afraid of Shankar Mahāpralayankar Bhaiyā.”
“You are right.” I admitted, “But Shankar Mahāpralayankar is also winning over the Musalmān Underworld because Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is always ready to back him in any manner right or wrong. Shankar Mahāpralayankar is Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s milk shared brother. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan ties Raxā Bandhan on his wrist every year without fail.”
“I know,” Vibhā Trivédī smiled affectionately, “most of us your women do. Shankar Mahāpralayankar Bhaiyā is our second biggest strength, after you. You are the first.”
“Thank you, Vibhā, leave Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā alone. Don’t punish him for what he hasn’t done.”
“He hasn’t held up anyone ever.”
“How do you know?”
“Vibhā, Padminī is punishing him for not surrendering his Brahm Padminī wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī. You know it very well.”
“Don’t do it, Durgesh.” Vibhā Trivédī said gravely, “You don’t know your ever dear wife Padminī Bhārgav entirely. She has managed to pin even a murder on Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā.”
“Because he is not surrendering his extremely beautiful Brahm Padminī wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī?” I asked indignantly.
“You know your Bhārgav Brahm Padminī wife, Padminī Bhārgav, even more than I do. She is Brahm Padminī Lioness.”*
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý soon fell on her back on witness bed.
She herself put her extremely beautiful Bhaŧŧāchārý Brāhmañ legs on my nude Bachhalyā shoulders, held my ever aggressive, ever sensitive Bachhalyā Lund in her hand and herself positioned it between her quivering Bhaŧŧāchārý Brāhmañ Cunt lips.
“Go ahead,” Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý invited me smiling gracefully, “please enter me, and oblige. Thanks for consenting to let me your permanent Bhaŧŧāchārý Brahm Padminī Brāhmañ wife, Méré Bachhalyā Piyā. Penetrate me and make me your Brahm Padminī Bhaŧŧāchārý Brahmmare for ever.”
I smiled, caressed her extremely beautiful, nude, Bhaŧŧāchārý Brāhmañ buttocks and pushed my Bachhalyā Lund into her excellent learned Brāhmañ Cunt.
It’s head went inside.
She sighed, smiling gratefully.
I pushed again.
It entered one fourth.
Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý winked at me sophisticatedly.
“Enjoying, Méré Bachhalyā Piyā?”
“Sure,” I smiled proudly and pushed again.
It entered half of it.
It took two more thrusts to vanish inside completely.
“Thank you,” Bhaŧŧāchārý Brahm Padminī, Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý, smiled gratefully, immensely indebted as if, “please don’t move now for some time. Let it remain there fully embedded. Let me absorb the honor.”
“The pleasure is mine, darling.”
“Thank you. You are very kind, very polite.”
She let me start fucking her properly after at least one complete hour.
In immense ecstasy, my Bachhalyā Lund was visiting Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý’s Bhaŧŧāchārý Brahm Padminī Brāhmañ Cunt now pleasantly, yet proudly.
“Justice Sunandā Bhaŧŧāchārý,” I started cross examining her, “you have identified the defendant in this case as the man who perpetrated the hold up.”
“Yes, Durgesh, I mean, the Defense Attorney Sir.”
“When was the first time you saw the defendant?”*
Padminī Bhārgav was furious.
“What the hell do you think I am, a damn fool?”
“Padminī,” I said curtly, “I am your husband, not your subordinate. Am I?”
She put her extremely beautiful nude Brahm Padminī Bhārgav Brāhmañ legs on my nude Bachhalyā shoulders.
“You made Vibhā Trivédī talk to you. You made a traitor out of her.”
“What else? Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Act is the Constitution of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations now. It was a major Constitutional amendment, not a minor legal amendment.” Padminī Bhārgav smiled cunningly, “If you really admire our Democracy, even you can’t go against this major amendment in the Constitution of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. You have to accept the entire Brahmāñīs who are Brahm Padminīs, yet were erroneously married to less worthy traditional Brāhmañs. They are your latest new Brahm Padminī wives, if you really respect our Democracy.”
She was smiling cunningly, triumphantly.
“Padminī Bhārgav,” I said bitterly, “Almost sixty percent of the Brāhmañs are facing false criminal charges now through out the entire United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. They haven’t done any crime they are unjustifically charged with.”
“And most of them are represented by yourself,” Padminī Bhārgav said bitterly, “my own husband who doesn’t love me, only fucks me so that our Chaturang Shāshvat Maithunyog should not break.”
“Padminī Bhārgav,” I said curtly, “I never knew you were so inhuman. You inherited more genes from your Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Ammī perhaps, than from your ever respected Brāhmañ father, Bhārgav Chakrvartī, His Excellency, Jamdagni Bhārgav.”
“Thank God,” Padminī Bhārgav smiled shrewdly, “if it’s really the case, how indebted I am to my Ammī, Her Excellency Dr. Al Tāhirah Al Kamāl. How enriched and how immensely developed her Al Tāhirah Creations are.”
“I would never let you punish the entire sixty percent innocent Brāhmañs of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, only because they had Brahm Padminī wives and either their Brahm Padminī wives don’t want to sacrifice their Satītv and Pātivratý to my genetically Bachhalyā lap, or their self respectful Brāhmañ husbands themselves.” I said, “Shame on you, Padminī Bhārgav. I am ashamed of you that you are my wife.”
“But how helpless you are, Durgesh, aren’t you?” Padminī Bhārgav smiled, “you can’t even divorce me.”
“Padminī Bhārgav,” I said curtly.
“Slap me,” she smiled.
“I have managed to change the Prosecuting District Attorney in the case of Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā. I’ve managed to remove my traitor friend Vibhā Trivédī. She is not prosecuting Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā any more.”
I looked at her incredulously.
“Barrister Padm Chitrā Mārkandéý is the new Prosecuting Authority of Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, my dear husband.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The dawn was cold and chilly.
Yet, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus didn’t need any coat around her.
My nonstop back and forth penetrations into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt were providing her enough heat she needed to face the cold and chill.
The automobile slid to a stop.
“What’s first on the program?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus surveyed the apartment house standing on the silent residential street, as though waiting for the warm morning sunlight to bring it to life.
“Like a sleeping horse standing on three legs with his head down.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, you can’t believe the neighborhood is jammed with people.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs watched her sarcastically.
“Another hour you’ll see curtains going up, smell the aroma of coffee, see the people dashing down the steps running for the streetcars.”
“I wish I were certain we had an hour.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Well, there’s only one thing to do. Find out first where Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd’s apartment is and next where her garage is.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
“That garage business may be tricky, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.” He suggested protesting what she had implied, “some early riser may be looking out of a window and…”
“I know.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said.
“It’s not a good idea to take chances that way.”
“I see.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “What do you suggest instead?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs thought for a second then he admitted reluctantly somewhat.
“I’m darned if I know. But if we contact the police…”
“And if the police asked the proof?”
“We are trying to get proof so that we can provide the same to the police if they asked for it.”
“There is no other option.”
“Why not wait?”
“Water,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said dryly, “has the habit of evaporating. I want to take a look at that automobile before the cushions have had a chance to dry out.”
“All right,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs surrendered ultimately, “If you feel that way about it, let’s go. Every minute makes things that much more dangerous.”
We left the automobile, walked up to the apartment house.
By consulting the directory Al Safiyah Al Ghaus found that Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd had apartment 786.
As we turned back to the car, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said,
“Now, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, you take the car, and drive up the driveway. We’ll pretend that we are looking for a stall to put the car in. If there’s any trouble, we can claim that some friend told us we could use her garage for a couple of days because she was going to be away.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said sarcastically,
“Sure. And then if they ask us about the friend and where she lives, it will be just another one of those things.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at him scornfully,
“We’ll just have to talk fast and try to talk our way out of it. If you don’t want to cooperate…”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs went back to the automobile, started it, backed into a half turn, then drove slowly up the driveway.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus and I walked ahead of Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was my nude glorious mare now on her knees and I was fucking her from her gorgeous behind.
The driveway went around to the back of the apartment house, where there was a large cemented yard flanked with garages.
“Begins to look better.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Look the garage doors even have the numbers of the apartments on them.”
“And padlocks.” I smiled.
“We’ll leave that to Al Nadīm Al Quddūs. What a husband is good for if he can’t pick a lock for his wife, once in a while.”
“Isn’t that breaking and entering?” I asked innocently.
“It is.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus admitted, “I believe it’s a felony. Even I wouldn’t do it for a million dollars if there were any other way.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs brought the car to a stop, climbed out, and looked at the padlock.
“I don’t like it, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.” He said bitterly.*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus pushed her exquisite gorgeous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks back into my nude Hindu male lap, swallowed my Uncut Hindu Prick entirely into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt, contracted her vaginal muscles around the entire length and thickness of my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Cock, and looked at her husband, Al Nadīm Al Quddūs, contemptuously,
“You don’t think I care any more what the hell you like and what you don’t. Do you?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs too looked at his wife venomously,
“I am more prudent now than I was when I married you.”
“That’s better.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said bitterly, “Got those skeleton keys handy?”
“Oh sure,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said, “I am not a damnfool that I give you one more chance to destroy me. It’s your funeral now, not mine. I don’t love you any more. Go ahead if you really think you can outwit Durgesh even.”
“Got those skelton keys?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus asked him coldly.
“Yes, they are in the car.”
“Get them for me.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus ordered him emotionlessly.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs pointed out smirking.
“The windows of those back apartments look out here in the court and…”
“My damn fool husband,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said sneeringly, “the longer you talk, the more chance there is someone will hear the discussion and look out to see what it’s all about. This is no time to get weak kneed. You know now very well you were never my destination when I married you. You were my stepladder only.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs wasn’t stunned even for a moment.
He laughed bitterly.
“I wasn’t in love you myself, bitch. I wanted to fuck you only. And I have done it now to my heart’s content. I damn care now if you fuck Durgesh or a black thief even.”
“That’s all right. It was a bargain then. You were after my body and I was after your money. We both got what we wanted to have. Now, why the hell are you trying to protect me still now as if you are still my husband? You are not. You were never my husband, moreover. You were only my stepladder and I’ve reached my destination now. Durgesh is my destination, you stupid. Why the hell don’t you understand?”
“I don’t understand?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed sarcastically, “I don’t understand? I suspected you bitch, right from the beginning that you were after my money, not after me.”
“I don’t have all the time in the world now.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said contemptuously, “You love a female animal body only as any male animal does. Durgesh doesn’t. Durgesh loves Beauties with brains. That’s why Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan successfully defeated her Ammī Nafīsah Salmān in Durgesh’s sex life. I have to show Durgesh that I too have brains, not beauty only, if I want to gain some respect from him in our sex life. I have to go ahead as though I own the joint and we are just putting the car in for the night. Get me those keys.”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs walked back to the glove compartment of his automobile, reluctantly took out the bunch of skeleton keys handed them to Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, said,
“These are the padlock keys.”
Then he walked over to the door, stood so that his body shielded the large bunch of keys from any casual observer who might be looking out of any window whatsoever.
In fact, there was a great temptation for him to turn back to the automobile, and disassociate himself from what was going on.
But he could not do it.
Despite what he said, he still loved the treacherous Musalmān Beauty.
Yes, he suspected Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was using him as a stepladder.
But even then he could have her amazingly exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body until she needed him as a stepladder at least.
After all, what was there to lose?
It took five keys before Al Safiyah Al Ghaus found one that would open the padlock.
The lock clicked back.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus calmly opened the door.
We moved inside of the garage.
After a moment, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus called Al Nadīm Al Quddūs sneeringly.
Her voice was exaggeratedly sweetest.
In fact, she cooed actually.
“My dear utmost wise husband, would you kindly oblige me to come here?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs hesitated a few moments, then reluctantly entered the garage.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus had opened the sedan doors.
Now, she was feeling the seat cushions and the carpet on the floor.
“Look at this rear cushion, wise guy.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said sarcastically, “doesn’t that feel damp to you?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs put a reluctant hand on the cushion.
“The left side.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said.
“It feels sort of damp.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs admitted.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus frowned thoughtfully.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled ironically.
“That’s right. You frown thoughtfully because you have yourself too realized now that it would have been soaking wet if your theory was right.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus immediately searched through the automobile.
Disappointment appeared on her face.
“Clean as a hound’s tooth, ma’am.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs announced triumphantly.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said thoughtfully.
“I guess I’m off on a wrong trail. The only thing to do now, is to get out of here fast. Hang it, Allah, I can’t get over that damp place in the seat of cushion. What the hell could have caused it?”
“I damn care.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said triumphantly, “Nevertheless, if it had been what you thought, it would have been wetter than that.”
“I’ll be damned.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said thoughtfully, “Let’s take a look at the motor temperature.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus clicked on the switch and looked at the electric gauge.
“Cold as a cucumber.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus flicked off the switch.
“Okay, I guess I’m licked. Durgesh has played some still deeper game, deeper for me at least.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs chuckled.
I kept smiling only.
I didn’t comment.
“I guess, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd could have used another car.”
“Well, there isn’t any evidence here to back up your theory.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus watched him scornfully.
“The tragedy is that if it isn’t here I don’t know where I have to go to look for it.”
“All right,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said bitterly, “let’s get out and do our talking afterward. I never liked this idea in the first place.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs started for the door.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus made a quick final survey of the garage.
Suddenly she said,
“Hell! Look here.”
Her voice was suddenly filled with triumphant excitement.*
I was riding Al Samīnah Al Qāsim once more.
We had fucked since in countless sex positions.
No doubt she couldn’t make with Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
He was a righteous man who believed sex was not actually a virtue for men.
The men, if they were really righteous, must control sex.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim needed enormous sex instead.
“Abbū and I both think it’s just a joke someone played. You know Ammī now even more than Abbū and me, I think. She swears that it was my picture in the frame when she was doing the packing, but Ammī gets excited when we travel. You see, Zāherah Ħusayn and I look alike, even if Zāherah Ħusayn wouldn’t admit it. Ever since I started traveling, people in restaurants and night clubs have been staring at me, nudging each other and whispering.”
“You might capitalize on it. A stand in or something.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim didn’t know then what her Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, had planned actually.
We were half through breakfast when Al Samīnah Al Qāsim’s Ammī, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, approached us.
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim deliberately left us and went to her stateroom as soon as she saw her Ammī.
She wanted to give privacy to her Ammī, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, with me.
It might be Al Nāsirah Al Karīm wouldn’t talk freely in Al Samīnah Al Qāsim’s presence.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan tried to stop Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.
“Nonsense. Your Ammī, Al Nāsirah Al Karīm, is an ultramodern Musalmān lady. She wouldn’t have been a Trillionaire if she were so backward.”
Al Samīnah Al Qāsim squeezed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s hand.
“I know my Ammī more than you do, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. She isn’t a Trillionaire when she deals with her children. She is an Ammī then.”
“Al Nāsirah Al Karīm,” I looked at her, “I have some information for you.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm kissed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan on her cheeks.
Yet she grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis too and squeezed it appreciating it.
I smiled, squeezed her still gorgeous rich Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks.
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm kissed me on my lips.
I hugged her.
“Can you tell me now?” Al Nāsirah Al Karīm glanced dubiously at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
“You have to decide it.” I smiled, “It’s your family secret, not mine.”
“It’s all right.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, “I can understand. Excuse me, please.”
Al Nāsirah Al Karīm held her wrist.
“It’s all right, Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat. I may need you too. Please, stay with us if you don’t have another work more important to do.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled, squeezed her arm and assured Al Nāsirah Al Karīm that she was staying.*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked resignedly.
“Now what the hell is it?”
“Over here.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus ordered him curtly, “Quick.”
The tone of her voice brought Al Nadīm Al Quddūs to her side immediately.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was bent down over a dark corner that was under a workbench.
“What the hell is it?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked impatiently now.
He had lost now all his patience.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus straightened.
She was holding an army blanket in her hand.
“Feel this.” She ordered Al Nadīm Al Quddūs scornfully.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs felt of it, then whistled.
“Soaking wet.” He exclaimed.
“And look under here too, wise guy.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus bent over and picked up a pair of men’s shoes.
“These,” she said curtly, “were directly under the blanket.”
The shoes themselves were soaking wet.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was stunned.
“You win,” he said involuntarily incredulously, “Allah, by gosh. I’ll hand it to you.”
“Himmat-e-mardān madad-e-Kħudā.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled triumphantly.
“Correct it appropriately.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs laughed, “Himmat-e-åuratān madad-e-Kħudā.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed too.
“Well, what do we do?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked, “Take the evidence?”
“No.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “We put everything back the way it was, get out of here, and let the police make the discovery.”
“Do you think they will?”
“They will after we get done with them.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cheerfully.
“Just put them back the way you found them?”
“Yes, but first look on the inside of those shoes.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus instructed her husband elatedly, “See if there’s a manufacturer’s name. See if you can get his size.”
“Do you want to read me the letters that are on the inside here? I’ll write them down.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus cheerfully picked up the shoes, held them so the light shone down on the figures that were stamped on the lining.
She read off the numbers and the name of the manufacturer.
“Nothing to show the retail store that sold them?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked.
“Nothing.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Just the shoe. Eight and a half B as I interpret the meaning of these numbers. However, we’d better check up with a shoe man on that.”
“And get out of here,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said.
“Okay,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “put the shoes back.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs put the shoes back, put the wet blanket over the shoes.
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was the first out of the garage.
I was the last.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus locked the door of the garage.
Once more Al Nadīm Al Quddūs shielded with his body what Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was doing so that no one in the apartment house could see Al Safiyah Al Ghaus wiping fingerprints off the padlock with a handkerchief.
I helped Al Safiyah Al Ghaus into the car, then climbed myself pulling her on my lap, sitting on the seat.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus straddled on my Uncut Hindu Penis facing me.
“You really think the police will find it?” suddenly Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked Al Safiyah Al Ghaus.
“Oh sure.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “It’s not Durgesh that forgot to remove them from the garage. He isn’t that careless. It’s either Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd or Al Muħammad Al Qāsim himself.”
“Can’t it be a bait?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs suggested.
“Bait? For me?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
“They can’t harm me now any more as I can’t harm them.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said gravely, “Moreover, they know it very well as I do myself.”
“Then why are you trying to harm them?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled ironically.
“Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd wants to revenge me. I have to see she never succeeds. It’s my legal right. Isn’t it?”
“Well, how can you blame Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd? You’ve broken her home. Hadn’t you?”
“Well, that’s the point.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled, “She blames me for it. She justifies herself. She isn’t cured even now. Until and unless Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd doesn’t stop justifying herself and blaming others for her failures she is open to be harmed either by me or by someone else.”
“Okay. What about my younger brother Al Muħammad Al Qāsim?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked her bitterly.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim looked at me scornfully.
“I could never imagine, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd could give you excellent sex enough to protect her uncle, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, and her cousin, Muħammad bin Qāsim, to this extent.”
“Neither could I.” Al Lubnā Al Qāsim said scornfully too.
“He is only an Uncut Hindu Penis, nothing else.” Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim said, “He can do anything to fuck Musalmān Beauties. And if some extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies are available in a Musalmān household, Durgesh can conceive and stage any bloody legal hocus pocus to protect that entire damn Musalmān household.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at Vikram Bachhalyā and Pratāp Bachhalyā.
They kept silence.
None of them tried to say anything.
“Won’t you say anything?” Al Zakiyah Al Qāsim shouted at both Vikram Bachhalyā and Pratāp Bachhalyā, “Does a Bachhalyā brain act only when the Bachhalyā Lund visits a Brāhmañ Cunt? Not, when it visits a Musalmān Cunt?”
Al Lubnā Al Qāsim laughed ironically.
“Our ancestors used to say that we Musalmīn would have also converted entire India into Islam. But the Hindus successfully deceived us by telling us the Brāhmañs are the brain of the Hindus and the Rājpūts are the arms of them. Actually it wasn’t a fact at all. The Brāhmañs were only the ostensible brain of the Hindus and the Rājpūts were only the field warriors. The real brain of the Hindus were the ever indomitable Bachhalyās. The Hindus always kept this war secret successfully to themselves only.”
Vikram Bachhalyā and Pratāp Bachhalyā smiled.
“Al Safiyah Al Ghaus is outlining her theory only. She hasn’t produced any facts in support of her wildest theory until now.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
Her back and forth movements of her glorious Musalmān buttocks were being increased more and more, swallowing my ever increasingly lustful Uncut Hindu Penis entirely into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
“My dear brother in law, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, competently protected by his ever efficient Hindu son in law, Durgesh, then slipped out of sight to drift along the side of the ship, pounding and hanging against the sides. He couldn’t be certain otherwise to waken witnesses. After all he had to disappear afterward, hadn’t he to?”
“You mean he used a rope for hanging and pounding to attract the attention of witnesses?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs asked his ever smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.
“There are so many persons who have seen a rope on the deck that disappeared afterward.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled cunningly, “I was too one of them.”
“And how could you manage it?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs was sarcastic.
“I could manage it, my dear husband, because I suspected him ever since he met Durgesh. I used our Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad to follow your younger brother, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, nonstop continuous.”
“Because you are interested in his billions?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said bitterly.
“Why not?” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said shamelessly, “Isn’t he your younger brother? Didn’t you help him ever in building his business?”
“If I could help him, I myself would have been a Billionaire.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said bitterly.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus ignored his comment deliberately.
“Let me hear more about the rope.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs said sarcastically, “What does the rope have to do with it?”
“You are one of the most successful script writers in Ved Nagar Film Industry.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said, “Can’t you yourself imagine it? Your younger brother had to go overboard, falling in a rather peculiar way. Then he had to be where his wife, Al Zohrah Al Bittol, would see him when she reached the bow of the ship. There’s quite an overhang on the bow of the ship that’s built along those trim lines. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had to be certain that the current couldn’t sweep him away until after Al Zohrah Al Bittol had seen him. Moreover, in addition to that, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim had to be where he could have one hand out of the water and fire a gun. He had to be sure it went off. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim couldn’t afford that gun to get wet or have the barrel filled with water. He had to drop off the ship in such a way that he could keep his right hand out of the water until after he’d fired the shot.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs watched his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife outlining her theory how I could have helped Al Muħammad Al Qāsim in escaping from his ever greedy relatives.
“And you mean that accounts for the rope?” His voice had appreciation now for his ever smart wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, despite the fact that he hated her now more and more.
Well, she was brilliant after all.
“Sure.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said enthusiastically fucking me herself vigorously now. “The best way to have done all that was to have looped a twenty foot rope over the bow of the ship. Then when Al Muħammad Al Qāsim leaned over the side, he could manage to fall in just that particular manner.”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs couldn’t believe his own wife, Al Safiyah Al Ghaus, was such a brilliant Musalmān Beauty.
She was describing in detail how could have I saved his younger brother, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, she was so against of.
He forgot she was fucking me.
Her exquisite gorgeous Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks were filling my nude Hindu male lap again and again.
My unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis was vanishing into his extraordinary smart extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt with her glamorous bottom’s every back and forth motion.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, your younger brother, could hit the water with a splash. He’d have hold of the rope with his left hand and the gun would be held in his right hand.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus said ironically, “He’d fire the gun then let go one end of the rope down with him. Then he only needed to kick himself up the current and the confused motions of a wounded swimmer would keep him in just the position he wanted until he looked up and saw his wife, Al Zohrah Al Bittol, looking down at him. Then he could drift along the side off the ship.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs murmured to himself involuntarily.
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was a swimming champion in various swimming clubs’ swimming contests. Durgesh planned knowing his capacity of swimming fully.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus laughed.
“There you are my dear husband.”
“I’ll be damned.”
“He decided to die to get rid of us. But when a person dies, there are certain formalities that have to be taken care of before he’s marked dead officially. Someone has to see the body and identify it. Durgesh used Al Zohrah Al Bittol, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s wife, for it. Her anticipatory bail had already been taken to protect her. Everything in the planning is so efficiently taken care of that it almost bears Durgesh’s signature. No one except Durgesh could have even conceived this plan. It’s so legally perfect. Isn’t it?”
Everyone present there looked at me with immense appreciation in his/her eyes for me.
I smiled non-committal.
There was no use in contradiction.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was too obsessed with her logic.
The others were too impressed by her reasoning.
“You see why Durgesh’s ship itself was chosen for it. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim could practice his ostensible murder in this way more efficiently than with another ship/yacht. Durgesh has been known for his unique ship for years now. The pictures of his ‘yacht’ have been published already in all the yachting magazines. If Al Muħammad Al Qāsim could get aboard this ‘yacht’ and leave Durgesh himself to do the explaining to the police… Get it, my dear husband?”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her gravely.
“I’m beginning to. But even if it was so, what’s wrong there Durgesh has done? Al Muħammad Al Qāsim wanted to get rid of us. He is authorized to do so. You haven’t done anything so far in his favor. You always did everything against him and my daughter Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim didn’t want our interference in his life any more. Well, he was authorized to do so.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at him furiously.
“You are a damn fool. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim knew very well he could never in the world have got a dime out of Durgesh until the escrow was closed. Durgesh would have demanded a quitclaim deed from Al Muħammad Al Qāsim and Muħammad bin Qāsim jointly, then given them an order on the escrow. Therefore, by playing it this way, and leaving the case wide open, Durgesh convinced Al Muħammad Al Qāsim to feel certain the true facts would never have been even suspected let alone uncovered.”*
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs looked at her sarcastically.
“Can you prove anything of this wildest theory of yours?”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus smiled approvingly.
“That’s the point. When Durgesh, the legal wizard, plans something it’s not easy to find some hole in it.”
“But,” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs smiled cunningly, “it’s a legal problem we have to face. If we can’t establish what you have theorized so skillfully, what’s the hell use of your such a wonderful interpretation of the facts?”
“I know,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus contracted her vaginal muscles around the entire length and thickness of my Uncut Hindu Penis, “the proof lies in the fact that your younger brother, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, couldn’t do it without an accomplice. He needed someone to help him out. Someone, who was camped downstream with a rowboat anchored out of the deep channel but where the current was strong. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim must have kicked past the side of the boat, then gone on downstream, swimming under water, come up to the surface, quit swimming, turned over on his back and floated until he saw the signal of his accomplice on the rowboat.”
“Signal?” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs couldn’t deny he was appreciating his enormously smart wife mentally, despite his every effort to hate her.
She was brilliant.
She was smart.
But, so was almost every Musalmān Beauty he met until now that fucked Durgesh either or Durgesh himself fucked her.
Does Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund inject wisdom, prudence and smartness even in a Musalmān Beauty when he fucks her?
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs couldn’t believe it was even possible.
“Sure,” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus answered him, “probably a shielded flashlight.”
Allah, she had answer to every question.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus continued.
“Then Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, your younger brother, climbed aboard over the stern of the rowboat. His accomplice promptly cut loose from his anchor and silently sculled, rowed, paddled, propelled or canoed the boat to shore where they had an auto waiting.”
“Theory again.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs objected, “I was asking of proof.”
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was as obsessed with her theory as she didn’t even pay any attention to what Al Nadīm Al Quddūs had said.
She continued to say in her enthusiasm.
“They’ll be working according to a tight little schedule. Al Muħammad Al Qāsim will be on an airplane headed for some Islamic country or perhaps some place in Mexico.”
“Sure. He has his numerous friends there. Hasn’t he?”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs murmured.
“You have a point there.”
“Do you know who is his accomplice?”
“Hell, no.” Al Nadīm Al Quddūs grimaced.
“Your lovely, now again extremely beautiful ex-wife, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd.” Al Safiyah Al Ghaus exploded her bomb shell.*
Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd turned the canoe, sent it swiftly to the exhausted Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.
“Get in.” she said, “Climb in over the bow so you don’t upset us.”
“Thank you, Bhābhījān.” Al Muħammad Al Qāsim said in an entirely exhausted voice.
It wasn’t easy to reach the canoe without coming in the eyes of Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband Movement Musalmān lady commandos.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was very harsh on Criminal/Criminal Minded Musalmīn.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was now Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s faithful friend.
Of course, Durgesh was with Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd and Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, but even then, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd and Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd were no match for Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s and Al Safiyah Al Ghaus’s extraordinary Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female intellect.
Well, he wasn’t sure still whether Muħammad bin Qāsim could hold the fort successfully now, behind him.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim glanced over his shoulder to look at Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd and me, a swift, desperate appraisal.
Then, he raised his right hand, then left, then catching hold of the bow with both the hands, one on each side, he raised himself with a powerful thrust of strong Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān arms.
He came over the bow, sliding along to lie momentarily flat on his stomach, kicking his legs clear of the water.
“I hope Al Safiyah Al Ghaus Bhābhījān’s Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement’s ever dangerous Musalmān lady commandos haven’t seen me.” He said breathlessly.
“Āmīn.” Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd said.
“ÉVmastu!” I also said, “Tathāstu!”
“I don’t think even now, it’d be easy to establish that I’ve been really murdered.”
“Al Safiyah Al Ghaus and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan would never leave any stone unturned to prove the contrary.” Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd said pushing her ever glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks back in my nude Hindu male lap.
My Uncut Hindu Penis again vanished entirely into her ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim rolled over with a swift lithe motion, doubled his knees in under him, pulled down his wet dress and gasped.
Even then he didn’t fail to notice that I was paddling like hell.
He couldn’t decide whether my Uncut Hindu Penis was vanishing fast into his Bhābhījān, Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd’s, Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt or I was paddling fast.
His followers had flashlights.
Everyone of them were trained commandos after all.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was now Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus was paying a large fee to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement.
Even if Durgesh was against the movement, Shankar Mahāpralayankar was with them.
The questing beams of the flashlights circled out over the dark waters.
One of the more powerful flashlights caught the canoe.
I promptly ceased paddling, kept my back turned, my face down and said to Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.
“Keep your head down.”
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim obeyed instantly.
From the direction of my ship, came the sputtering sound of a motor, then a choking back fire, followed by a sudden roar of staccato explosions.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was instantaneously alert.
“Allah,” he said, “they are prepared for everything. Al Safiyah Al Ghaus Bhābhījān has perhaps anticipated our every move already. They have got one of the speedboats going. We have to reach quickly to our other yachts there.”
“Al Muħammad Al Qāsim is right Durgesh.” Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd said, “Give it everything you have. Quick. We can’t afford to let them catch us here.”
“That’s why I proposed speedboat myself. But you insisted on canoe.”
“Speedboats make noise.” Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis by her vaginal muscles, “Hear yourself.”*
Al Safiyah Al Ghaus looked at Al Nadīm Al Quddūs.
“My dear husband, I’ve instructed my reliable detectives from Cuckold Your Musalmān Husband movement to scrutinize the passengers who go out on airplanes. I want them to cover the morning outgoing trains at the depot. I want detectives to comb the river bank and see if they can find some trace of Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd who rented a rowboat/canoe. Above all, my dear husband, if the scheme worked out according to schedule, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim must have changed from his wet clothes to dry clothes in Al Qur’an Al Tawħīd’s automobile. I want to get hold of her automobile and see if we can find Al Muħammad Al Qāsim’s wet clothes. That’s why I’m in a hurry and that’s why we have got to work fast.”
Al Nadīm Al Quddūs didn’t say anything for a moment.
Then he smiled.
“You think Durgesh hadn’t anticipated already what you can do? He hasn’t already checkmated your every possible move? Well, my dear wife, then you don’t know Durgesh properly, even while he is fucking you.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
As she neared me, a nasty little thought ran through her mind.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could give me the one thing for Shrāvañ Parv that I surely wanted most in the Multiverse.
Not long after having that thought, she smiled triumphantly.
Much to her surprise the idea returned to her the next day.
She kept pushing it aside as silly and unreasonable yet it kept coming back.
As if she would learn something, she didn’t already know she went into my room on one of my last days before Shrāvañ Parv break and turned on my computer.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav surfed through the images and felt a new and intense excitement.
For the first time she felt the desire to play with herself as she looked at my porno collection.
It was almost entire ashvinātam.
So, Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs were still even more than less in my life.
Only because they are more educated, more sophisticated and more accomplished?
The Musalmān Beauties were winning because they were losers and the Brāhmañ Beauties were losing because they were competent.
Yes, the Musalmān Beauties needed protection.
Yes, most of the Musalmīn were terrorists, criminals/criminal minded, because they were Uneducated/Under Educated.
Consequently, it was more than necessary to protect Musalmān Beauties not to opt for them.
There should be an open option for Musalmān Beauties to reject Pseudo Musalmīn and opt for Durgesh/Hindus.
Yet, why the Brāhmañ Beauties should suffer for it?
Padminī Bhārgav is right.
Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī is right.
‘Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām’ movement is correct.
She began to softly caress her tits before reaching down inside her pants to explore her pussy.
After a brief while, she removed her pants and sat on my desk chair with her legs spread widely apart as she fingered her pussy.
She quickly grew excited and played with her wet clit and pussy.
For a moment, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav closed her eyes and imagined me sitting in this same position stroking my hard Bachhalyā Lund.
Not, Uncut Hindu Lund.
Durgesh unduly criticizes Bachhalyās.
Only due to the Bachhalyās always opted for Brāhmañ Beauties instead of Musalmān Beauties.
Why the hell should not they?
Didn’t Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī conceive Bachhalyās initially as the husbands for the Brāhmañ Beauties and Brāhmañ Beauties only?
Didn’t she fight even with her Bachhalyā husband to keep Bachhalyās exclusively for Brāhmañ Beauties?
Didn’t she manage ultimately with her constant holy wars to get the famous declaration from the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI that Brāhmañ Beauties were only for Bachhalyās, not for Brāhmañs too?
Who the hell then Durgesh is attempting to change the famous historical verdict of the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI?
Padminī Bhārgav is right.
Even Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī is not right to suggest that the Savarñ Beauties have equal right on the Bachhalyās as the Brāhmañ Beauties do.
‘Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām’ movement is correct.
Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām!
Kr’ñvanto vishvam Bachhalyām!!
Long live Padminī Bhārgav.
The Brāhmañ Beauties must be awarded.
Don’t preach them sacrifice only.
Brahm Jagdambās vijayanté!
Brahm Jagdambās vijayanté!!*
Clearly Durgesh must do it, otherwise why would he have the pictures on the computer?
In her mind my Bachhalyā Lund was long and hard and I slowly stroked it while staring at the same image Dr. Sītā Bhārgav currently had on the screen.
That vision alone was enough to catapult Dr. Sītā Bhārgav into a frantic sexual ecstasy.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav controlled herself very hard.
She did not want to fall to the level of unsophisticated women who instead of controlling themselves for the practical action, resorted to masturbation.
Initially she felt very odd about what had happened, almost as if she had crossed a taboo line with her thoughts.
Caste taboo was quadrupled here with the utmost arrogant Brāhmañ sacrosanctity.
The Bachhalyās were considered Shūdrs, dalits, the downtrodden nowadays.
Nevertheless most of the Brāhmañ Beauties never surrendered to the traditional Brāhmañ conspiracy.
Most of the anti Brāhmañs had always served the Bachhalyās in spreading celibacy among traditional Brāhmañs.
The Bachhalyās found Brāhmañ Beauties, consequently easily available to them.
Brāhmañs and Rājpūts were serving humanity uplifting Musalmān Beauties while Bachhalyās were serving Brāhmañ Beauties and Rājpūt Beauties even.
Surprisingly quickly, however, those feelings were replaced again by a certain curiosity and thrill of giving me the ultimate present.
Despite feeling a little weird about it Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to regularly watch the images she found on my computer.
Whenever Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could for the next couple of days, she went back into my room and turned on the computer.
It wasn’t the images themselves that appealed to her.
In fact, she had been looking at the pictures less and less and been thinking more and more about the idea of me stroking my Bachhalyā Lund as I sat in the same chair where Dr. Sītā Bhārgav currently was.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to make excuses for her wild gift idea in her mind.
She reasoned that since I was utmost rich and an entirely unashamed ever-best fucker she would be the perfect person to have me.
It was clear that I was the one person she felt totally comfortable with.
She realized that she felt relieved.
The Bachhalyās had improved more in my leadership recently.
Now, the Brāhmañ Beauties, Rājpūt Beauties and the other Savarñ Beauties were again openly fighting with each other to have a Bachhalyā husband/live in relationship partner/lover.
The Musalmān Beauties always ignited the fire between them to keep them away from their respective Savarñ husbands who were serving the Musalmān Beauties sexually and/or socially.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to look at it as doing me a favor, giving me the ultimate gift that any woman could give a man.
Why should it matter that there were “rules” that said they shouldn’t?
It was clear to her that I was a good man.
I was the utmost successful man almost in every field I was interested.
Moreover even at my sixty-four I still had desire to get out, meet new people and date women.
Perhaps by doing this Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could ignite a fire in me for her and let me see how wonderful it can be to be with her.
For a couple of days she repeated these ideas over and over in her mind until Dr. Sītā Bhārgav started to believe them.
Still, even as noon on Shrāvañ Parv Eve approached, a tiny voice told her she was crazy.
The traditional Brāhmañs would be against her immensely as they were against most of the Brāhmañ Beauties who were already my live in relationship partners/beloveds, my women friends having sex with me.
Doing something she had never done before, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav got in the car and joined the throng of last minute gift shoppers at the local mall.
She went thinking that she would just walk around until she found the perfect gift for me and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could stop having her silly thoughts.
After a couple of hours of searching through stores and fighting crowds, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was still empty handed.
It literally seemed that, I already had every material thing that an utmost rich man could have or want.
She wandered around thinking about this when her mind hit on the idea of material gifts.
Maybe she was looking in the wrong direction, she thought, maybe the key wasn’t material but something else.
She let this thought linger and actually asked herself what thing or experience must I want more than anything else, but as soon as her mind formed the thought she immediately knew the answer.
The answer came first not from her mind but from deep inside her.
She felt her stomach knot slightly and perhaps even a brief tingling in her pussy before her mind answered her own question with a single word, “Sex.”
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav continued walking around the mall for a while longer still trying to figure out what to do even though, deep down, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav suspected that she had already made up her mind.
When she did finally stop in front of a store where she knew she’d find the perfect thing Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled to herself.
It certainly wasn’t the store she’d been expecting.
As Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stepped inside, the lady by the door said,
“Hi, welcome to Victoria’s Secret.”
“Geez, Sītā Bhārgav, I thought you got lost,” I teased when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stepped inside the house. “I would have thought you’d have known better than to go out on Shrāvañ Parv Eve.”
She laughed and said Dr. Sītā Bhārgav certainly had learned her lesson.
As she walked past the couch, where I was sitting Dr. Sītā Bhārgav commented that she’d picked up some food for dinner and quickly went into the kitchen.
Before I could follow her Dr. Sītā Bhārgav dropped the food on the counter and quickly shoved the other, smaller bag into one of the cabinets where Dr. Sītā Bhārgav would come back to get it later.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav started putting away some of the other groceries she had purchased while at the store.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav still didn’t know how Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was going to make her gift work, but she thought it might be nice to have the supplies for a nice meal to either set the mood or bask in the afterglow when they were done.
After putting away the groceries together Dr. Sītā Bhārgav and I sat down to eat dinner.
All through dinner, I tried to get her to reveal what she had bought me for Shrāvañ Parv.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav would only say that it was something she knew I wanted but wouldn’t say anything else.
After I left Dr. Sītā Bhārgav retrieved her little bag from the kitchen cabinet and stashed it in her room.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav tried to read but her mind was too busy racing with thoughts and uncertain emotions.
Instead, she picked up the remote and stayed in bed flipping TV channels randomly until she finally drifted off to sleep.
Even as Shrāvañ Parv Day dawned, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav still didn’t quite know how to play out the day.
As Dr. Sītā Bhārgav showered, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav suddenly got cold feet and started having second thoughts.
She frantically tried to think of something, anything else Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could do, but repeatedly a little voice told her she already knew what Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was going, and wanted, to do.
Immediately after her shower, she heard me rustling around and called down the hall that she needed more time to get ready.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav told me to eat breakfast and that when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav came down we would exchange our gifts.
Usually, we got right up and opened our gifts in our pajamas even before eating just as we had done previously.
Today, however, she knew she needed some time to get ready.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav went back into the bathroom and took her time as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav carefully applied her makeup and fixed her hair.
Usually she only took this much time when she had a special outing and wanted to impress people, but she had decided that she needed to look her best to make this gift perfect.
She applied fresh polish to her nails and as they dried Dr. Sītā Bhārgav carefully considered how to compliment her outfit.
She pulled a pair of black, strapless shoes with tall, spiked heels out of the closet and knew they would be perfect.
She found her long strand of pearls and put them around her neck.
She loved the length of this necklace as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could wrap it firmly around her neck with one loop and then leave the second loop hanging down her chest.
While the first loop gave the sexy look of a choker style necklace the second one hung down perfectly so the bottom few pearls nestled nicely into her healthy cleavage.
With her free time and lack of working for nearly the past 20 years Dr. Sītā Bhārgav had taken to working out regularly to keep herself fit.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav swam laps daily in their pool.
That was one of the great things about where she lived since the weather was warm enough to swim virtually all year around.
The result of all her swimming and her ability to focus on fashion and her appearance was that Dr. Sītā Bhārgav looked and felt fitter than she ever had been before.
Even when she had married her Brāhmañ husband, she knew Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wasn’t as fit as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was now.
Knowing that made her feel sexier than she ever had before and she found it slightly ironic that she felt sexier and more desirable as she got older.
After putting on pearl earrings to compliment the necklace she pulled the items from her small bag, and considered how Dr. Sītā Bhārgav should dress.
She had purchased a few different outfits hoping one would match her mood today.
Looking them over, she reached down and picked up the silk robe.
She already owned several silk robes similar to this one because she loved the way the smooth fabric felt on her skin, but for this occasion, she knew Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wanted something new, something she’d never had on before.
The robe was black and felt very sexy and sleek as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slipped it on over her naked body.
It was a full-length robe and only stopped down around her ankles.
By itself, it wasn’t very revealing but she knew that the thin material would cling to her temptingly as she moved around.
For the final touch, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav tied the knot in the band around her waist just a little more loosely than usual allowing more of her chest and some cleavage to be exposed.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav took one long last look at herself in the mirror before she left.
She reapplied some lipstick in a deep red color that perfectly matched the color of the polish on her nails.
She analyzed her hair and decided it was fine.
Her jet-black hair was pulled up into a teasing tangle of twirls and twists behind her head.
It was the kind of hairdo that looked very thrown together and sassy, but she knew that it took a long time to achieve the right look.
Lastly she readjusted the longer loop of pearls to make sure they were resting just so between her tits.
The contrast between the black robe and the bright white pearls on her chest was very striking and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled knowing it would be sure to draw my eye.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled wickedly to her reflection thinking she had achieved the look Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wanted.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway before turning toward the living room.
A tiny part of her mind screamed for her to stop and get out of these clothes but that part was outmatched by a deeper, more primal voice that anxiously awaited what was about to happen.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began walking down the hallway knowing that whatever happened things would probably never be quite the same between her and Durgesh.
She felt herself growing excited as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav walked from the sleek, sexy fabric flowing past her bare skin.
Her tall heels clicked on the hard wood of the stairs and as she entered the living room.
Ordinarily Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wouldn’t wear shoes to open the presents.
The clicking of her heels made me look up from my magazine when she entered the room.
The look on my face was exactly what she had been hoping for.
My jaw dropped open and I looked at her in surprise for several seconds.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav stood still and felt my eyes moving over her.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav watched them move down to her feet and then slowly move back up to her face.
As she had hoped, she noticed that they lingered near her tits, as I seemed to be drawn to the sight of the pearls tickling her cleavage.
My eyes moved ever so slightly without rising from her tits and Dr. Sītā Bhārgav became immediately aware that her nipples had started to grow hard under the slippery silk.
Undoubtedly, it had started simply from the exquisite friction of the fabric on her nipples as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav walked and her nervousness, but seeing my eyes exploring her and knowing what might happen next certainly helped them tighten up.
They weren’t yet fully hard but they were definitely stiff enough to be seen through her robe.
For a Moment, she felt embarrassed but then realized that this was nothing, compared to what Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was going to do.
“Do you like it?” she asked in a soft, playful voice.
“Wow! Sītā Bhārgav, you look fantastic! I mean, you look better than most of the girls at university,” I answered with surprising honesty.
Hearing my words only stoked her already growing arousal and she knew it was time to act.
“Thanks,” she replied as she glided across the room smoothly on her high heels.
She noticed that I watched her move very carefully.
I didn’t particularly stare at any part of her but rather seemed to take in the whole of her movements.
She knew that the tall heels were causing her hips to sway more than normal and she accentuated that as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav walked.
I was sitting on her big couch.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav moved between the couch and the oversized coffee table, until Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was standing right next to me.
I was looking up at her with a mixture of emotions in my eyes and on my face.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could easily see the curiosity but was also excited to notice that perhaps there was something else there too.
A certain something about the glimmer in my eye denoted excitement and interest.
Instead of sitting on the couch next to me, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly sat down on the edge of the coffee table so Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was facing me.
After sitting, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly crossed her legs, in something Dr. Sītā Bhārgav couldn’t have planned any better, her robe parted, and slipped open revealing her legs all the way up to just over her knees.
For a split second, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav saw my eyes flash to her bare legs and she felt her nipples grow ever tighter.
I was wearing my usual outfit before I got dressed which was a pair of loose sweats and an old T-shirt.
For a brief Moment, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wondered what was going on under my sweats.
This was the Moment she had been most troubled with.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav, clearly, now had my attention and possibly even had me aroused, but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav didn’t know how to take the next step.
Perhaps it was partly from her own increased desire but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav decided to scrap the speech she had planned and simply go for the very direct approach.
She reached out a hand and placed it on my knee.
We both looked at the spot where her hand rested before looking up at each other.
My face was still a mask of gravity.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav simply gave me a soft, calming smile.
She heard me inhale rapidly when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav began to let her fingers move around slowly on my knee and then some on my thigh.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav continued this for a short while as the room filled with a heavy, silent tension.
After slowly sliding across the coffee table so Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was now directly in front of me rather than slightly at an angle she placed her other hand on my other knee and began softly rubbing both of my legs at the same time.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav still had her legs crossed and knew that when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slid over, even more of her legs had become exposed so I could now easily see at least halfway up her thighs if I wanted to.
In addition, she had to lean over some to reach me properly and knew that this angle would give me an even better view of her cleavage if I wanted it.
Surely, I had seen more of her body exposed as we lounged around the pool together, but I never would have seen her body so teasing and erotically displayed for me.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav glanced at my lap and quickly noticed a bulge in my pants that hadn’t been there before.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav smiled at me and felt her excitement grow even higher knowing she had given me a hard on.
“Sītā Bhārgav?” I said questioningly.
I didn’t say anything else but the tone of my voice and my expression clearly asked her what Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was doing.
“Do you like this?” she asked softly.
“I…but…I can’t…you’re my friend’s wife,” I said gravely in quite clear opinion over what was happening.
“Shhhh,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav softly replied trying to keep me as calm as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could. “Don’t think like that. I know what it is like to be your age. So curious, so horny. I’m only a woman and you’re only a man.”
As Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slowly spoke Dr. Sītā Bhārgav continued rubbing my legs, then reached up with her right hand, and brought it down over the bulge in my pants just as Dr. Sītā Bhārgav called me a man.
I smiled gravely even without a little surprise at her touch.
She felt her own excitement grow from the brief contact with my rock hard Bachhalyā Lund through the soft cotton fabric of my pants.
“Did that touch feel good?” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav softly asked looking up into my face.
I stared back at her with my face still showing gravity over what was happening.
However, there was now no denying the desire that was beginning to burn behind my eyes.
Still, I sat in silence simply staring at her.
Again Dr. Sītā Bhārgav spoke softly and slowly,
“Durgesh, I’ve seen the things you have on your computer. I know what you must do when you are alone looking at those pictures.” She paused as she replaced her right hand on my thigh.
This time her hand landed on the upper part of my thigh only a few inches from my hard Bachhalyā Lund.
She felt the muscles in my leg tense when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav touched me but I didn’t pull away.
“What I can give you is so much more than how that must feel,” Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said as she again slipped her fingers over to feel my hard Bachhalyā Lund through my pants. “This is my gift for you.”
When Dr. Sītā Bhārgav said that it was like some barrier that I had set up in my mind broke.
I let out a long, quiet moan and threw my head back slightly as her fingers touched me through my pants.
Sensing it was time Dr. Sītā Bhārgav slid off the coffee table as she pushed my knees apart.
She knelt on the floor between my legs and reached up to the drawstring of my sweats.
Her long red nails easily grasped the ends of the strings and pulled the knot open.
She moved her hands to my sides and began to pull my sweats off.
I raised my hips off the couch and she pulled them down off my ass.
My Bachhalyā Lund was still stuck inside as I settled back down onto the couch.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav reached up and lifted them up as she pulled them off until my rock hard Bachhalyā Lund sprang free and stood tall and straight off my lap.
She pulled my sweats off both legs and tossed them aside.
Part of her wanted to begin with my toes and slowly kiss and touch me up my leg but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was so wildly excited and in need of a good fuck that Dr. Sītā Bhārgav wasn’t able to think of foreplay right now.
Besides, if Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was correct about me, I may last much longer in my obvious excitement before I would cum.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav leaned forward toward my Bachhalyā Lund staring at it closely.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s husband had been a great lover but his Brāhmañ penis had always been a little shorter and smaller than average.
My was probably only average in size or perhaps a bit larger, but in comparison to her memories of her husband and considering how desperately horny Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was it looked huge and more tempting than anything Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could imagine.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav leaned over my lap and since my Bachhalyā Lund was standing so straight and hard Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was able to take it between her lips without even holding its shaft.
She immediately took about half my length into her extremely beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth as I released a near primal indication of ecstasy.
The end came after almost an hour.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav had really sucked my Bachhalyā Lund madly and savagely, yet still sophisticated.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav bobbed her head a few times and licked the tip of my Bachhalyā Lund with her tongue.
She had fully intended on doing much, much more.
I called out very erudite and bucked my hips upward gravely as I started to cum.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav could feel my cum surging through the shaft of my Bachhalyā Lund with her lips an instant before it erupted into her mouth with a force that shocked her.
She planned to take my whole load in her mouth but Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was unprepared for the force and sheer volume of my Bachhalyā cum.
Her mouth was almost full after only the first couple of jets.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav struggled to swallow and keep my Bachhalyā Lund inside her mouth as I bucked my hips.
My Bachhalyā Lund was moving in, out and in to her extremely beautiful Bhārgav Brāhmañ mouth, spurting my Bachhalyā cum heavily inside.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav grasped my Bachhalyā shaft with her Bhārgav Brāhmañ hand and began stroking me that only made me lustier again and seemed to intensify my cumming.
Never had Dr. Sītā Bhārgav experienced such a vast amount of cum.
She excitedly watched it spew out of my Bachhalyā Lund for what was a surprisingly long time before I finally stopped.
My last few spurts of cum barely trickled out of my Bachhalyā Lund and as her fingers worked them out they came out in thick globs that immediately ran down until her hand was coated with my Bachhalyā cum.
I looked her in the face again after I stopped cumming.
My eyes glowed with lust and satisfaction.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav looked back at me.
She had swallowed what was in her mouth and found the taste nasty and intoxicating all at the same time.
Yet, it was the tastiest thing Dr. Sītā Bhārgav had ever tasted in her life.
Yes, Ramā Bhārgav, her younger sister was correct.
The more she licked it the more she wanted to lick it even more, even more and even more.
Yes, her girlfriends were also correct.
They always talked of its incredible taste.
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav always tried to stop them.
However, she herself wanted to talk about it now.
Wasn’t it a miracle?
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Seven movements
7. Ashvinātam Gangbang Club
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Amīnah Zahīr watched Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand gravely.
“I appreciate your manly vigor, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.”
“Thank you, Umm Al Åālmīn.”
“You are watching my live in relationship with Durgesh yourself personally, yet you are accusing me so bravely.”
“Durgesh never approved of the Cuckold Your Musalmān husband movement of Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself. ” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled sophisticatedly, “Did he?”
“What do you mean?”
“Durgesh never approved of the ‘Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club’ movement of Bājī Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan too. ” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled sophisticatedly again, “Did he?”
Amīnah Zahīr laughed.
“Naåīmah Bājī, he thinks Durgesh is right and you are wrong.”
“That’s right,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled triumphantly, “Durgesh Jījū and Naåīmah Bājī love each other and they are husband and wife now, despite their thirty two years age difference. Naåīmah Bājī is furious to Musalmān terrorists, criminal/criminal minded Musalmīn. She wants them Cuckolds and humiliated immensely until they aren’t True Musalmīn. Durgesh Jījū hates such an attitude even to the Musalmān terrorists, criminal/criminal minded Musalmīn.”
“And you think Durgesh is right and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Bājī is wrong?” Amīnah Zahīr watched Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand scornfully.
“Is there anything wrong in it?” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled patronizingly.
Amīnah Zahīr blurted.
“You are right, Naåīmah Bājī. You are always right. Even Hindus are not with us.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled serenely.
“Control yourself, Amīnah Zahīr. Despite it, we are using Hindus successfully to establish our Dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. Aren’t we?”*
In previous years the exceptionally attractive ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān wives had tanned topless, however this year, Rukħsānah Aslam felt odd, being the only wife there, so she left the top on.
Imrān Waħīd and I were talking.
Imrān Waħīd was drinking beer in the boat’s cockpit, while I was giving him company with drinking juice.
We had been friends for over fifteen years.
Our wives had been college roommates and were also close friends.
I was especially watchful as my friend’s extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān wife undid her top to keep from getting tan lines on her back.
Since Rukħsānah Aslam was lying with her head toward the cockpit, I enjoyed talking to her because she had to raise her head slightly to answer and usually showed some cleavage.
On one occasion, when she raised up a little higher than necessary, I thought I saw a nipple.
I was already enjoying the trip.
It was early September.
We were making our annual sail from North Carolina to the Bahamas, where we would leave the boat for the winter.
Usually there were four of us, but this year, due to a work related issue, my ‘wife’, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, was not able to come with us.
Rukħsānah Aslam felt a relief when she heard Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wasn’t accompanying us this time.
Despite the fact that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was her childhood friend, Rukħsānah Aslam always hated Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s ever-dominant nature.
Wasn’t it a fact that Rukħsānah Aslam was actually jealous of her miraculously utmost successful childhood friend, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan?*
Rukħsānah Aslam must be at least sincere to herself.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never hid the fact from anyone that she loved Durgesh madly despite I was thirty-two years older than Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Rukħsānah Aslam never wanted to be one of my women despite my immense success in almost every field.
Rukħsānah Aslam hated Hindus.
“If you keep on your friendship with that immensely dirty sex maniac Hindu multi zillionaire, Durgesh, Imrān Waħīd, you would soon find your every beautiful Musalmān houselady is being fucked by him, including me too.”
“Nonsense, Rukħsānah Aslam. Durgesh is the ever best friend we Musalmīn do have.” Imrān Waħīd was immensely angry with his wife, “Stop being jealous to your childhood friend Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. She offered Durgesh to you too, but it was you…”
“I hate that Hindu sex maniac.” Rukħsānah Aslam flared at her extremely damn fool Musalmān husband.
Imrān Waħīd smiled.
“Well, your sisters, your cousins, your Bhābhījāns and even your friends love my immensely successful Hindu friend, Durgesh. Don’t they?”
“They are crazy for his money.” Rukħsānah Aslam said scornfully.
“And why the hell shouldn’t they be?” Imrān Waħīd smiled teasing Rukħsānah Aslam.
“Sex should never be for money. It’s prostitution.”
“So you think all your sisters, your cousins, your Bhābhījāns and even your friends are prostitutes because they have sex with my friend, Durgesh, for his money?”
“Well, aren’t they, at least somewhat?”
“Imrān Waħīd, I am surprised.”
“Your sisters, your cousins, your Bhābhījāns and even your friends are not alone who enjoy sex with Durgesh. Most of the Musalmān Beauties I know enjoy sex with Durgesh.”
“And you are proud of it?”
“Come out of your ever harmful communalism, Rukħsānah Aslam.” Imrān Waħīd said scornfully, “It has always harmed us Musalmīn too much.”*
Amīnah Zahīr smiled at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
She was now on her knees.
I was fucking Amīnah Zahīr now from her glorious teen behind.
“I’m doubtful, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, whether we actually establish our Dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
“Nonsense, Durgesh has to be with us. The entire Vedic Monotheist Hindus are with us. Even the traditional Hindus are with us.”
“But the Brāhmañ Beauties are opposing us, the Savarñ Beauties are opposing us.” Amīnah Zahīr looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan gravely.
“The Brāhmañ Beauties want Bachhalyās and the Savarñ Beauties want Vedic Monotheist Hindus who were born Dalits, the downtroddens. That’s what Kr’ñvanto Vishvamāryam, Dharm Santānam, Dharm Sansthñpan for them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Only the Brāhmañ Beauties and Savarñ Beauties could be managed. A large number of them is already with us. They haven’t any problem with our Dream Ummat, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
Amīnah Zahīr looked at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan incredulously.
She changed the subject abruptly.
Looked at Pranav Yogendr Divyanand,
“So you say I knew Al Samīnah Al Qāsim?”
“Sure. Haven’t you?”
“That’s what I said.”
“I was quite friendly with Al Samīnah Al Qāsim? I talked her out of getting a divorce from her husband. Told her that if she’d sit tight and let her husband think she’d secured a divorce, then when Imām Muħammad Ħasan had found some other interest he could be made to pay a lot of money for a settlement?”
“That’s what I say.”
“Have you heard of something called defamation of character?”
“If you can’t prove what you are claiming that’s what you have to face.”
“I can prove it.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled disarmingly.
There was a silence for several seconds.
Amīnah Zahīr kept her teenager big yet heavy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks thrusting into my nude Hindu lap.
My legendary Uncut Hindu Cock kept vanishing into Amīnah Zahīr’s teen tiny Musalmān Cunt to my balls, coming out until only its head remained inside and then again buried deepest unto my balls.
Amīnah Zahīr was enjoying our lovemaking enormously.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand continued to say,
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim came down to Ved Nagar on the pretext that her husband, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, was here. It was an early hour this morning. She stopped in here and had her gasoline tank filled. In the meantime when her gasoline tank was being filled, Al Samīnah Al Qāsim enjoyed sex with Jījū.”
“Why?” Amīnah Zahīr asked sarcastically, “Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt was tighter than even my teenager Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt? Or, you think Durgesh is fed up of me at my so early teen age?”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand looked at Amīnah Zahīr patiently.
“Jījū never enjoyed you Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauties. He enjoys the Musalmān Beauties of his own age more.”
“Nonsense, you mean Durgesh is not enjoying lovemaking with me? Only I am enjoying his Uncut Hindu Cock in my teenager Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt?”
“If not, why the Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh movement is there?” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled sharply, “Al Samīnah Al Qāsim stopped in here and had her gasoline tank filled. Jījū filled her own Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tank too with his Hindu Vīrý. I don’t know what Al Samīnah Al Qāsim told you, or what you told her. Nevertheless I do know when Al Samīnah Al Qāsim started from here she was immensely satisfied sexually, physically and emotionally. Her bodyguard was with her. Ǻbdul Raħmān was not an ordinary bodyguard. He was a colonel in Her Excellency Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s personal secret service. Colonel Ǻbdul Raħmān was a Commando. He drove down the road about two miles, stopped her limousine in a parking place off by the side of the road and was murdered.”*
I had been with Pārvatī Pāŧhak and Shiv Shankar Sharmā for two days now.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak and Shiv Shankar Sharmā prepared for bed.
They compared notes, and agreed I needed their help..
“That little fucking Musalmān bitches,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak finally stammered, using a rare invective referring to my Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds and women friends. “They totally screw with his mind.”
“Well, it isn’t just his Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds and women friends. I mean, they are just being their usual self. Most guys would have been able to shrug it off after a while. But his Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds and women friends are his first and almost only love, so they have a disproportionate impact on Durgesh.”
“What do you mean only love? I mean, sure, they make love with Durgesh, but Durgesh is, what, 34, he must have had some other significant relationships.”
“I don’t think so. I mean, he and I have been friends for a long Time, and I don’t remember him really dating anyone else mostly other than needy Musalmān Beauties. For all I know, the Musalmān Beauties might literally be only women he ever slept with happily.”
“Hey Bhagvān, what an impression he must have of other women.”
“Well, it’s not as if he doesn’t know any better. I know he thinks the world of you. Moreover, he’s a smart guy. Nevertheless, yeah, emotionally, Durgesh is almost a cripple except with ever ravenous Musalmān Beauties because he almost never dated other women much. In addition, he built up this notion in his mind about how great it would be when he was with other women. I mean, I hate to psychoanalyze a friend, but there it is. Durgesh needs to be with some non Muslim women if he’s ever going to put Musalmān Beauties behind him and get on with his life, as he should. His Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds and women friends are blinding him constantly against other communities. It’s not good for a Mayor to be so partial to any particular society. Imām Muħammad Ħasan and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan both are using Durgesh for the benefits of their own community.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked at Shiv Shankar Sharmā thoughtfully. “I like Durgesh a lot, and he’s both sweet and handsome, but I can’t see him ever finding a good relationship. It’s a catch-22. Until he comes out of his shell, other women will stay clear, and the ones who don’t probably have enough of their own problems to make things worse.”
“I wish we could do something,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā replied sadly, “I wish we could get someone to seduce him or something, but I just don’t know anyone who’d be willing to do that. It’s a lot to ask a friend.”
Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s words trailed off as Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s mind wrapped around an idea.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak seemed to look right through Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
“You want me to seduce him.” She said it ambiguously, part observation, part rebuke, part question, and part offer.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā paused. Just for a second, but it was long enough to confirm it.
“N-no,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā said unsteadily. “I don’t, not really…” But he didn’t know what to say next.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā just stared at his extremely beautiful brilliant smart Brāhmañ wife.
She struck Shiv Shankar Sharmā as incredibly beautiful at that moment.
She was relatively tall for a woman at 5’7″, and her body was both athletic and voluptuous.
She has long, lean legs, and a hard, flat stomach, but at the same Time, she has large, high breasts, and a rounded Pāŧhak Brāhmañ ass and full hips.
She was wearing a diaphanous nightgown, which seemed to call particular attention to her peaks and valleys.
As part of the pre-bed routine, she had brushed out her long, full, brown hair, and it flowed over her shoulder in shiny waves.
Her face is conventionally beautiful, not exotic, but rather the corn-fed, midwestern, beauty that you associate with the queen at the prom.
She was frowning at Shiv Shankar Sharmā, her beautiful green eyes sad and questioning.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā desperately wished he could go back in Time, and head off the conversation.
The thought of Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife with another man, even Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s best friend in need, gave him a feeling like a lead weight in the pit of Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s stomach.
And yet at the same Time, a part of him was saying that it was the right thing to do, that it was a sacrifice worth making.
After all they also had a duty toward their immensely neglected Brāhmañ community.
What Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu did when he observed the extremely beautiful infinite Musalmān Beauties were representing even the entire denominations in Islam on Durgesh’s nude Hindu male lap constantly?
Isn’t Imām Muħammad Ħasan doing the same thing?
Hasn’t he used his entire extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies even for it and still using?
The Musalmīn are successful because they are aware of what they should do and when.
The Brāhmañs are again losing to Musalmīn.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan is not a Brāhmañ, yet he has learned from Param Brahmarshi Bhagvān Bhr’gu.
Can’t he, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, himself too?
If Imām Muħammad Ħasan had Nafīsah Salmān, Shiv Shankar Sharmā too has Pārvatī Pāŧhak.
Can Shiv Shankar Sharmā too sacrifice Pārvatī Pāŧhak as Imām Muħammad Ħasan sacrificed Nafīsah Salmān?
Can Shiv Shankar Sharmā?
Can Shiv Shankar Sharmā?*
As Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s was wavering similarly, her eyes glistened, and then one tear rolled down each cheek.
She looked down at her wringing hands, and then she sniffed and returned her gaze to Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
“I can’t Shiv Shankar Sharmā, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, I just can’t.”
“I don’t want you to, Pārvatī Pāŧhak.” Shiv Shankar Sharmā said gravely, “Don’t worry. I married with you. I can’t ask you to sacrifice your Satītv and Pātivratý, even for our Brāhmañ community.”
“How do we know it would even help us?”
“It probably wouldn’t,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā seconded, realizing as they spoke about it that the thought of her with anyone else was just too painful.
“Durgesh needs something. He needs a change of scenery, a therapist, a non Muslim girlfriend, something. But you are right, there is nothing we can do about it except be his friends.”
“Friends,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak repeated softly. “Shiv Shankar Sharmā, are we… am I being selfish?”
“No, I don’t think anyone would call you that,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā replied.
“I mean, it does make sense in a crazy way. I think Durgesh really thinks Musalmān Beauties are his one chance at love. He needs some sort of reassurance that other women too find him attractive.”
“Do you find him attractive?” Shiv Shankar Sharmā asked.
“Yes, of course,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak answered, a bit too quickly for Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s taste.
Seeing the look in Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s eyes, she continued, “I mean, I’ve never, until tonight, thought of him in anything other than as a friend, but yeah, he is a good looking guy.”
“Maybe that’s all he needs to hear?”
“What if he needs more?”
“I don’t know,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā replied.
She paused and looked Shiv Shankar Sharmā in the eyes.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” she said with a firmness Shiv Shankar Sharmā didn’t expect.
“N-no, I…but…” Shiv Shankar Sharmā stammered in reply.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak approached Shiv Shankar Sharmā, reached out and squeezed Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s hand hard.
“You are a good Brāhmañ, a good friend. I love you.”
And then before Shiv Shankar Sharmā could say another word, Pārvatī Pāŧhak turned and walked out the door.
It took Shiv Shankar Sharmā a moment to process what they had agreed to, and suddenly Shiv Shankar Sharmā realized how ambiguous they’d left it, how open ended this plan was.
As Shiv Shankar Sharmā watched the door shut behind Pārvatī Pāŧhak, Shiv Shankar Sharmā was paralyzed.*
Shiv Shankar Sharmā realized that both Pārvatī Pāŧhak and Shiv Shankar Sharmā thought that it was the right thing in the abstract.
But Shiv Shankar Sharmā also realized that Pārvatī Pāŧhak was going along with it, for Shiv Shankar Sharmā, as much as for Durgesh.
But to his immense surprise, Shiv Shankar Sharmā now didn’t want her to.
Well, Shiv Shankar Sharmā did, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā didn’t.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā knew he should, but Shiv Shankar Sharmā couldn’t.
Choking back his guilt at failing his already immensely neglected Brāhmañ community, Shiv Shankar Sharmā wrapped his mind around the simple fact that he loved Pārvatī Pāŧhak and did not want to share her.
No matter how selfish that made him that was the way Shiv Shankar Sharmā felt.
The realization finally brought Shiv Shankar Sharmā out of his stupor.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā had to stop Pārvatī Pāŧhak.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā went out the door and down to the basement where I was staying and where Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife had gone to try to build up my confidence in Brāhmañ Beauties.
But as Shiv Shankar Sharmā reached the top of the basement steps Shiv Shankar Sharmā hesitated.
Instead of rushing down the stairs, Shiv Shankar Sharmā crept slowly to the bottom.
The basement was divided into three rooms — a laundry room, a small study, and guest bedroom.
At the bottom of the stairs, Shiv Shankar Sharmā could see the light on in my room.
With the door cracked open, Shiv Shankar Sharmā could hear us talking.
It wasn’t too late, at least.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Muħammad bin Qāsim remembered that he looked at me expectantly.
We were still on the Yacht then.
I was watching the sealed envelope Muħammad bin Qāsim had given to me.
“Taufīq Fātimah knows ACP Suraiyā Jamāl personally and she has mentioned to me two or three times, Jījū, that ACP Suraiyā Jamāl is a dangerous antagonist.”
“Taufīq Fātimah is right.” I said gravely.
Muħammad bin Qāsim watched me peculiarly.
“Jījū, am I to assume that perhaps there was some particular significance that attached to her remarks?”
“Taufīq Fātimah is your wife now, Sālé Miyān; you should understand that she isn’t a fool.”
“I know. Would ACP Suraiyā Jamāl cross examine me?”
“Your father’s disappearance isn’t a normal event in Ved Nagar. Is it?”
“Certainly not. ACP Suraiyā Jamāl is already asking me searching questions. About my poisoning, I mean. Not about the mysterious disappearance of my father, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.”
I kept quiet for a moment only.
Then I whirled at him.
“As most of the Musalmān Beauties are nowadays, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl is also against Pseudo Musalmīn very much. That’s why Abbū Imām and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has chosen ACP Suraiyā Jamāl to assist Muħammad Åbdullah, the Commissioner of Police here.”
“The Musalmīn are suffering now on the entire globe due to the mad activities of crazy Musalmān terrorists.”
“The Musalmīn must oppose the terrorists more than they are doing now.”
“There are some Musalmīn that think the terrorists are right.” Muħammad bin Qāsim clenched his fists in frustration and helplessness.
“That’s the problem the rest of the Musalmīn have to face if they don’t oppose the terrorists.”
“The Musalmīn are now deliberately marrying their ardent Musalmān sisters and daughters to Hindus now. They think it would prove they aren’t communal at all.”
“Abbū married Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim Bājī to Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand. I was against it first, but when I listened to what Abbū had to say in the matter, I myself had to agree.”
“ACP Suraiyā Jamāl put in quite a bit of time asking me why we allowed Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim Bājī to marry Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.”
“She is quite inquisitive about these matters.” I smiled somewhat curtly, “As Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, ACP Suraiyā Jamāl does too believe in Dr. Ali Sina that every Musalmān is either terrorist or potential terrorist at least. Sorry, the more I try to explain then it isn’t correct the more they believe I am being kind to the Musalmīn on the cost of Non Musalmīn’s life and wealth.”
“Well, they are correct. I myself think sometimes that you are more lenient to Musalmīn than to the Non Musalmīn.”
I whirled at Muħammad bin Qāsim once more.
“The hell you do.”*
Muħammad bin Qāsim smiled apologetically.
“I don’t want to lie to you any more, Sorry.”
“Sālé Miyān.” I smiled, “It’s alright. Okay.”
“I was poisoned a few days ago.”
“Before your father disappeared?”
“Yes. I thought it was a simple case of food poisoning, but apparently, it wasn’t. Anyway, that’s what ACP Suraiyā Jamāl says. She wants to make a lot of trouble.”
There was a moment of silence.
Only the sound of water slipping past the sides of the yacht was audible.
Moreover, it was plainly audible.
“I see.” I said.
“Taufīq Fātimah, my Hollywood Star wife, and I had dinner there. Both of us didn’t eat the same things. Taufīq Fātimah had red wine. I had white wine then. Taufīq Fātimah had prime ribs of beef cooked rare and French fried potatoes. I had fried oysters and vegetables. Only the desserts we had was the same. After half an hour of our eating, we both became ill. Taufīq Fātimah was only slightly ill while I was quite ill. I thought it a typical case of food poisoning.”
“I’m listening to.” I said.
I stood with my elbows over the rail.
I was looking down at the rippling water that curled up against the sides of the vessel, splashed over into little foam crested ripples and then fell rapidly astern.
There was silence for several seconds.
Then, Muħammad bin Qāsim said abruptly.
“I think we’re headed for the island, Jījū.”
“That’s right, Sālé Miyān.”
“I was talking about this food poisoning.”
“I requested you to protect Taufīq Fātimah if I die. I’m still waiting for the answer.”
“If Taufīq Fātimah would be implicated, I promise you to protect her if she is innocent.”
“She is innocent, Jījū. She is innocent. Somebody is trying his/her best to frame her.”
“She is a Hollywood Star, isn’t she?”
“Most of us Musalmīn don’t want to give that much liberty to Musalmān Beauties ever. We are so over possessive that we are crazy to govern even the lives of the Musalmān Beauties that aren’t related to us in any manner.”
“Are you telling me?”
“I think some crazy Musalmān is behind it, not Taufīq Fātimah. He/she wants to punish me by killing me in this way and let Taufīq Fātimah to go to gas chamber for the so called murder of her husband.”
“I was pretty sick. I called a physician. The same physician treated Taufīq Fātimah, my wife.”
I didn’t say anything.
Muħammad bin Qāsim continued to say.
“I explained to the physician treating both of us that it was food poisoning, probably something that had been canned because there was a burning metallic taste in my throat.”
I still didn’t say anything.
Muħammad bin Qāsim again continued.
“ACP Suraiyā Jamāl showed up yesterday afternoon and told me that I had been poisoned by arsenic. I think she is after to make something of it.”
“She asked me a lot of questions about what enemies I had and all that sort of type. Allah, I don’t want any newspaper and/or news channel notoriety of anything like that, particularly right at this time. I’m putting across several important business deals, Jījū, you already know.”
“That’s right,” I confirmed him, “How did ACP Suraiyā Jamāl think the arsenic get in the food?”
“She didn’t bother to tell me that. Instead, she wanted me to tell her that. I suggested her to go to the restaurant. If she is right about the arsenic, it might be the cook of the restaurant. Who else?”
“Anyone else poisoned?” I asked.
“ACP Suraiyā Jamāl said that there had been no other complaints.”
I raised my eyes.
The sun was setting.
A thin moist haze seemed to be rising from the water.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan came along the deck.
She said cheerily.
“Hey, you both look rather serious. Spoiling your appetite by talking some damn business?”
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed.
“Certainly not, Bājī. I was telling Jījū about ACP Suraiyā Jamāl’s visit yesterday afternoon. You advised me to tell Jījū everything.”
“Oh, I still think it was food poisoning. You are already all right now.”
“Fit as a fiddle.”
“Yet, somewhat pale, however.”
“That’s an elder sister’s over concern, Bājī, nothing else.”
“Nonsense. What did your Jījū say?”
“He hasn’t. He was to say something when you came.”
“Well, I’m rounding up the guests for cocktails.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled authoritatively, “Dinner will be served in about thirty minutes. Your Jījū said he wants to give the cocktails time to take hold.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim asked casually.
“Bājī, do you know whether we’re headed for some fixed direction, or are we just cruising?”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan put her right index finger on her lips.
“I’m not talking, sorry. Sealed orders from your Jījū.”
“We’re probably going to the island.” Muħammad bin Qāsim said.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“I don’t want to be impolite to you, Muħammad bin Qāsim. But I’m living in relationship with your Jījū now for four years about. During these years I’ve learned when it pleases Durgesh that I talk and when it pleases him that I won’t.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim teased her.
“Oh, come on, Bājī. You are not an ordinary wife any more. You are Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat, the Everfirst President of Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
“Jacqueline Lincoln is the Everfirst Lady President of United States of America. But even Jacqueline Lincoln knows how to govern our ever indomitable Hindu husband. If we want something, we are cheerfully ready to pay for it. It’s an art to govern your husband.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed.
I was smiling on the efficient smartness of Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
She was indomitable too.
Only Durgesh could govern Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Jacqueline Lincoln.
In addition, it was a great honor for me, I knew.
Muħammad bin Qāsim and I accompanied Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan down to the canopied after deck.*
The seven hundred eighty six girls caught up with Taufīq Fātimah just as she reached the strips.
“Taufīq Fātimah,” one girl shouted to her.
Taufīq Fātimah didn’t recognize any of them
Nevertheless, their number, Seven hundred Eighty Six, told her their special status.
They were Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s girlies.
Taufīq Fātimah was now almost sure of it.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was the utmost successful Musalmān Beauty now.
She has successfully managed to conquer not Durgesh only, despite her thirty-two years younger bubbling youth, she successfully used her live in relationship with Durgesh to establish Democracy in Saůūdī Årab too.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used her extremely stunning Musalmān beauty and immensely overflowing Panjvaqtah Namāzī female Musalmān youth for it.
However, it was because her parents were with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Taufīq Fātimah also wanted to do many things, but her parents are too orthodox and too conservative.
The Seven hundred Eighty Six Musalmān Beauties definitely knew who Taufīq Fātimah was, even if Taufīq Fātimah didn’t know any of them.
“We want a run,” one of the Seven hundred Eighty Six Musalmān Beauties said, speaking loudly so that the people passing them could hear the challenge, “You can lead and pick the point.”
“Done,” Taufīq Fātimah smiled triumphantly, “You said you are Seven hundred Eighty Six in number. C-786th then, Durgesh Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī localway intersection.”
The Seven hundred Eighty Six Musalmān Beauties frowned.
Does Taufīq Fātimah outexcel them in brains too?
All the Seven hundred Eighty Six Musalmān Beauties were around twenty-eight.
So was Taufīq Fātimah.
Taufīq Fātimah leaned over and rolled up the cuffs of her pants a little.
She could shake all the Seven hundred Eighty Six before they reached the destination Taufīq Fātimah had named.
More couples, some triples too, passed and stepped on to the nearest strip.
The triples were not as efficient as the couples were.
The Pseudo Musalmīn husbands that formed the third of the Triples, were not as efficient as their Musalmān Houseladies and their Hindu lovers/live in relationship partners were.
Does Bisexuality really affect the Pseudo Musalmīn husbands adversely?
Nevertheless, the Triples are not only legal here; they are surviving as well, despite futile terrorist attacks.
No terrorist attack ever succeeded here at Ved Nagar.
The Law and Order at Ved Nagar was marvelous.
The governments of almost every country now studying the management of the Law and Order at Ved Nagar, with the Ved Nagar Government‘s express permission of course.*
A dance music was being played on the canopied after deck.
Sidrah Aħmad was dancing with Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
Most of my Musalmān live in relationship partners and lady friends agreed with Shankar Mahāpralayankar more than with me.
“Your vision is right but your planning to achieve it is impractical, Durgesh darling.” Sidrah Aħmad used to say, “I think Shankar Mahāpralayankar is more practical.”
“Thank you, Sidrah Aħmad.” Shankar Mahāpralayankar beamed at her.
I smiled and looked at Nafīsah Salmān.
Nafīsah Salmān grimaced.
“I don’t agree with you, Sidrah Aħmad. You want to say, the terrorists cannot be controlled effectively if the noble persons too don’t resort to illegal means?”
“Sidrah Aħmad has a point there, Nafīsah Salmān.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan had looked at his wife gravely.
Nafīsah Salmān laughed.
“I never expect anything better from you, Imām Muħammad Ħasan.”
“Durgesh is a great man, no doubt.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said, “But he doesn’t understand Musalmān terrorists psychology at all. He thinks the Musalmīn are terrorists, criminals/criminal minded because they are Uneducated/Under Educated.”
“It’s not true?” I stopped my Uncut Hindu Penis inside Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan entirely buried there to my balls.*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wrapped her strong nude legs around my nude Hindu male waist.
I felt my Uncut Hindu Penis driven more into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
I squeezed her nude young Musalmān buttocks and kissed Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan on her lips.
“Dr. Ali Sina doesn’t agree with you, my dear Hindu husband.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan winked at me, contracting her vaginal muscles around my entire Uncut Hindu Shaft.
“And you think Dr. Ali Sina is a better authority on Islam than myself?” I smiled benignly enjoying my entire Uncut Hindu Shaft inside her young smart Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled triumphantly but he didn’t see anything himself.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar had now Sidrah Aħmad on her knees.
He was penetrating Sidrah Aħmad now from her glorious behind.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī said gravely.
“Dr. Ali Sina isn’t alone, Durgesh. He has too many followers and even numerous Co-authors now.”
“What the hell you think it does mean Ħumairah?”
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī kept licking my Uncut Hindu Cock visiting Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s young Musalmān Cunt vigorously.
“Simply that Dr. Ali Sina and his Co-authors can’t be ignored only by shrugging our shoulders.”
“Dr. Ali Sina has challenged the followers and admirers of Islam if anyone of them proves him wrong, Dr. Ali Sina would pay him a large amount of money.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan chuckled, “Why don’t you accept his challenge, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! if you think Dr. Ali Sina and his Co-authors are not correct in their interpretation of Islam?”*
The dog, deftly avoiding Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr’s kick, stood watching Muħammad bin Qāsim with lips that curled back from his fangs.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said gravely.
“Come on in. Let’s go inside, sit down, and talk this thing over in a civilized fashion.”
“We may differ about our idea what the civilized fashion actually is.” Muħammad bin Qāsim smiled sarcastically.
Nevertheless, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr was smarter.
“Oh no, I don’t think so. You are as cuckold as I am. So, our ideas about what is civilized and what’s not can’t differ very much.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted at Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr.
“What the hell you mean? I am not cuckold even a bit.”
“You are, my dear boy, you are.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled patronizingly, “Most of us Musalmīn are actually cuckold to our Musalmān Houseladies and their Hindu lovers/live in relationship partners whether we are bold enough to acknowledge and accept it or not.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim looked at Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr contemptuously.
“You are still alive despite your immensely hateful opinion about most of us Musalmīn, because you are living here at Ved Nagar. If you lived elsewhere the Musalmān terrorists had killed you already.”
“My dear child,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled patronizingly once more, “You have only heard about Musalmān terrorists, don’t you? Have you met ever anyone?”
“What do you mean?”
“Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself is your Bājī. She is herself running the movement Cuckold Your Musalmān husband since she wasn’t even the Everfirst President of Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat. She is the Brain and Power behind cuckolding most of us Musalmān husbands. What do you think? Durgesh has cuckolded most of us Musalmān husbands? Shankar Mahāpralayankar has cuckolded most of us Musalmān husbands? Hindus have cuckolded most of us Musalmān husbands? No, never. Our own Musalmān Houseladies have cuckolded most of us Musalmān husbands.”
“Because you Musalmān terrorists were blaspheming Islam more than the non Musalmīn.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan thundered at Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr suddenly, “Even then the impotent Musalmīn were not criticizing you blaspheming bastards. We, Musalmān Houseladies of yours, never did cuckold you enjoying it very much. We did it because we didn’t have another option whatsoever. You bastard Musalmān terrorists, criminal/criminal minded Musalmīn compelled us, your own Musalmān Houseladies, to cuckold you if we had to save our own Īmān.”*
Amīnah Zahīr raised her hand.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim, have you come here to discuss the cuckolding of you Musalmān husbands?”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr laughed at Muħammad bin Qāsim contemptuously, scornfully.
Muħammad bin Qāsim was too indulged in discussions with Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr he hadn’t even realized when Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr had brought them through the first door to the left.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had led the way into the room that had been fitted up as a library cum bedroom.
It was a neat job of books and shelves.
I was fucking Amīnah Zahīr there on the bed.
“Kħush Āmadīd,” Amīnah Zahīr smiled at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand and Muħammad bin Qāsim, making a sweeping inclusive gesture, “Welcome.”
The party seated themselves.
“All right,” Amīnah Zahīr smiled at them melodically, “now let’s hear what you folks have to say.”
“You’re getting the cart and horse all mixed up,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled courteously, “We want to hear what you have to say.”
“We have nothing to say.” Amīnah Zahīr smiled disarmingly.
“You knew Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.”
“Who says so?” Amīnah Zahīr smiled charmingly.
“I say so.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled charmingly too, “Amīnah Zahīr, you knew Al Samīnah Al Qāsim when Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was in Nevada. You were quite friendly with her. You talked Al Samīnah Al Qāsim out of getting a divorce from her husband. You told Al Samīnah Al Qāsim that if she’d sit tight and let her husband think Al Samīnah Al Qāsim had secured a divorce, then when Imām Muħammad Ħasan had found some other interest he could be made to pay a lot of money for a settlement.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Just Eighteen Just Adult
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was really looking forward to this weekend away with me.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I sat side by side on the plane heading for Spain, Waħīdah Ǻbbās closed her eyes and thought back to how it had all come about.
Allah, how difficult it was to seduce Durgesh, Waħīdah Ǻbbās thought.
And the bastards, Musalmīn, claim Durgesh is a Hindu communal sex maniac.
Durgesh fucks every Musalmān Beauty he meets ever.
Bosh and nonsense.
If the ever communal bastard Musalmīn were true in their ever false ever communal claim, why the hell so many Musalmān Beauties were still dreaming and suffering to have Durgesh as their lover/ live in relationship partner?
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was Just Eighteen Just Adult, and liked to think that she was independent.
She was just coming to the end of her first year at University.
For the last couple of years, Waħīdah Ǻbbās had chosen not to go away on the annual family holiday with her younger sister and her parents.
The previous summer, the rest of the family had gone to Spain, and had spent the day in Barcelona, a city Waħīdah Ǻbbās had always wanted to visit.
When we got back, Waħīdah Ǻbbās was quite jealous of us for having been there, and on the spur of the moment, Durgesh had promised to take her there for a long weekend.
For various reasons, the long weekend had never happened – until now.
About a month ago, the topic of the trip had come up again.
Durgesh was due a few days off, and so – without telling Waħīdah Ǻbbās – he had stumbled about on the internet, and booked them some flights and two rooms at a decent looking hotel.
It had all seemed to work out okay, and she was actually quite proud of me for having booked the holiday that way.
I could barely contain myself when I surprised Waħīdah Ǻbbās with the tickets a few days later.
The excitement had built over the next few weeks as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had both looked forward to the trip.
The two of us had always got on well, and Waħīdah Ǻbbās actually got on better with me than she did with her Ammī, particularly in the last couple of years since she had got over those difficult, early teenage years.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had caught the early flight to Barcelona on the Friday morning, and had until our flight back, late on Sunday afternoon, to enjoy ourselves.
I smiled at Waħīdah Ǻbbās as I caught her looking across at me.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I laughed, for no other reason than Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were happy to be getting away for a few days, able to spend some time together.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās shut her eyes and relaxed, thinking about me.
Despite the ever communal ever unjustified in their Hindu hating dastardly claims of the Pseudo Musalmīn, Waħīdah Ǻbbās found me never communal, never Musalmān hating.
I was okay, she thought to herself.
Generous, a good laugh, kind.
And extremely good looking too, Waħīdah Ǻbbās concluded.
Actually, she thought, I was outstandingly handsome, in every kind of way.
Moreover, she knew that almost everyone of her friends fancied me like mad even at my sixty-four.
Was I really sixty-four?
No one believed it ever.
Except perhaps her Nānājān, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, and Durgesh himself.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās laughed to herself at the thought, preferring men her own age, but understanding the attraction of someone older.
Nowadays, it was a surprising trend for Waħīdah Ǻbbās that Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauties were mostly interested in senior Hindu males, instead of those of their own age.
In Ved Nagar, it was almost a miracle now if a Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Beauty dreams of a Musalmān or a Hindu male of her own age.
“Teenagers are immensely inexperienced.” one of her closest friends, Ǻāliyah Kāmrān, said scornfully, “They are as afraid of taking our cherry as we ourselves are. The bastards, always seeking safe girls who have already lost their cherry either to their fathers or brothers.”*
Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl looked at Ǻāliyah Kāmrān immensely horrified.
“To their fathers or brothers, Ǻāliyah Kāmrān?”
There was a strong disbelief in Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl’s voice.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān laughed at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl.
“I hate you.” Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl shouted at Ǻāliyah Kāmrān protesting strongly.
“Nevertheless, you are a chicken still now even at your Just Eighteen Just Adult. Stupid girl.”
“Shut up. Keep your filthy mouth shut. You dirty bitch.” Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl thundered at her.
Some of their friends were watching them quarrel, with interest, but most of them were laughing at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl.
Yes, some of them were neither laughing at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl nor watching them interested in their futile quarrel, but even they were smiling at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl with quite an immense smirk on their lips.
“Chicken,” Ǻāliyah Kāmrān laughed at Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl mockingly, “the world is not as moral as you childishly think. Most of the fathers fuck their own daughters and most of the brothers fuck their own sisters until they are not married to their foolish husbands.”
Farħānah Salāħuddīn laughed.
“Not only that,” she confirmed Ǻāliyah Kāmrān, “there are so many Ammīs even who are cougars to the extent that they have their sexual relationship with their own son.”
“You are dirty girls.” Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl said scornfully, “I hate all of you.”*
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān teased Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl not to humiliate her, to teach her instead the cold and hard things of life.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān wasn’t as lucky as Al Rashīdah Al Jamīl was.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān had had to face grim realities of life, consequently, even while she was Just Eighteen Just Adult only.
The kitten’s eyes, waving back and forth, followed the ball of crumpled paper.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān was waving it high above the arm of the chair.
The kitten was named Green Eyes because of the color of her eyes.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān liked to watch her eyes.
Their pupils were always changing, narrowing to ominous slits and widening to opaque pools of onyx.
Those black and green eyes had an hypnotic effect on Ǻāliyah Kāmrān, as Durgesh himself had on almost entire womankind.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān disagreed.
There isn’t any exception, as far as Ǻāliyah Kāmrān knew.
Ǻāliyah Kāmrān’s own elder sisters hated Durgesh once.
They deliberately, stubbornly, married eligible Ǻrab Royal Sheikħs.
Their age difference even didn’t matter at all.
Ultimately, her Māmūjān, Muħammad Yūsuf, was proven to be exactly correct.
Eventually, everyone of her elder sister seduced Durgesh herself.
And now, they are having their actual live in relationship with Durgesh while still married to their royal Ǻrab Sheikħ husbands.
Their royal Ǻrab Sheikħ husbands tried to object on it.
Durgesh immediately transferred his numerous stocks of shares in the oil companies in the name of their wives.
Their royal Ǻrab Sheikħ husbands suddenly found their wives actually controlled now their oil wells even.
Their objections died out eventually after a long futile struggle.
The royal Ǻrab Sheikħ husbands surrendered to their richer wives for their own financial survival.
It was their bad luck that Saůūdī Årab was not Saůūdī Årab anymore.
She was Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat now.
Modern Democratic Årabia.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was its ever first President.
Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.*
However, it was not exactly as Ǻāliyah Kāmrān thought it was.
Her eldest sister, Kħālidah Kāmrān managed it somewhat differently.
Her Ammī, Kāzimah Yåqūb and I left work early at five o’clock because she wanted extra time to get ready for the Halloween party our friends were throwing tonight.
Kāzimah Yåqūb and I worked together at my office.
I was an utmost successful Sex therapist in the suburbs and Kāzimah Yåqūb was my Colleague lady Sex therapist.
I met Kāzimah Yåqūb just after her second year of medical school to become a Lady Sex therapist.
Kāzimah Yåqūb was 18 at the time.
Shortly after we met, Kāzimah Yåqūb got pregnant from me.
Kāzimah Yåqūb wanted to manage her live in relationship with me, but Kāmrān Hāshimī proposed her surprisingly.
“Why not oblige me, Kāzimah Yåqūb?”
“What do you mean?” Kāzimah Yåqūb could not understand.
“I’m a bisexual, Kāzimah.”
“What? How the hell you know it?” Kāmrān Hāshimī was dumbfounded.
“Nāzimah Raħmān told me.”
“Allah! Is she telling everyone that I am a bisexual?”
“Not bisexual, worse. She is telling everyone that you are impotent, not capable to satisfy any woman. You exploded as soon as you entered Nāzimah Raħmān. Nāzimah Raħmān had to go to Durgesh to extinguish the fire you incompetently set between her legs.”
“Durgesh? She went to Durgesh? But she loves Shankar Mahāpralayankar.” Kāmrān Hāshimī was horrified.
“Nāzimah Raħmān doesn’t love Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Shankar Mahāpralayankar loves Nāzimah Raħmān. Nāzimah Raħmān hates Shankar Mahāpralayankar. He is a Criminal.”
“But… but Shankar Mahāpralayankar said…”
“Nāzimah Raħmān isn’t responsible for what Shankar Mahāpralayankar claims. Only Durgesh could save Nāzimah Raħmān from Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Nāzimah Raħmān hadn’t another option. Shankar Mahāpralayankar fucks even the royal Ǻrab Sheikħs in their asses.”
“Shankar Mahāpralayankar is more powerful than the royal Ǻrab Sheikħs even. The royal Ǻrab Sheikħs can’t protect themselves from his criminal powers.”
“As they sowed so they’re reaping.” Kāzimah Yåqūb said curtly, “The royal Ǻrab Sheikħs created Shankar Mahāpralayankar against Musalmān terrorists to protect their kingdom. They succeeded in protecting their royal kingdom from Musalmān terrorists, but not from Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. They thought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t do anything. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan slapped them, rather kicked them actually with her far stronger feet than the royal Ǻrab Sheikħs thought Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had. As they sowed so they reaped. What’s wrong in it?”*
I looked at Waħīdah Ǻbbās, as she sat, totally relaxed, her eyes closed.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was quite beautiful, just like her Ammī at that age.
She had had her red hair cut for our break, but it still hung around her shoulders, framing her awfully stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face.
She really was quite lovely, with her big brown eyes, full lips and pert nose.
Like many girls of her age, Waħīdah Ǻbbās was wearing a tight sleeveless top, with the narrowest of straps, which clung to her body, curving softly around her full Musalmān breasts.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s tanned midriff was bare, the gold cross in her pierced belly button glinting softly.
Her skirt was – according to her Ammī – too short.
Looking across at her, I suddenly felt aware of myself at how my ever experienced Hindu male eyes were drawn to her long, slender, tanned female Musalmān legs.
The flight wasn’t that long.
By the time Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had been fed a typical airline breakfast, had a couple of cups of coffee, and bought Waħīdah Ǻbbās some duty free perfume, it was time to start descending towards Barcelona.
As soon as the captain announced our approach to the airport, Waħīdah Ǻbbās grabbed My arm, her excitement evident on her terribly stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face, her Musalmān breasts squashed against me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās bent over to try and see more out of the window next to me.
Once the plane landed, and came to a halt at the terminal, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were amongst the first to leave the plane.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I dashed through the airport, hoping that our luggage would arrive quickly.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were in luck – it seemed that only minutes after Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I reached baggage reclaim, our cases were on the conveyor belt in front of us.
Minutes later, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were in a taxi heading for the city centre.
The taxi driver picked up on our excitement straightaway, and was soon chatting away in his broken English, pointing out the various sights as he drove.
He offered us a sight seeing “detour”, and as it wasn’t much more than the fare itself, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I took him up on his offer.
He drove us up to the highest part of the city, and Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I gasped at the panoramic views in all directions, of the docks and the cruise ships lined up in one direction, and of the city in the other.
He showed us the historical sights, where the famous football stadium was, where the Olympic village had been, and so much more.
By the time Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I reached the hotel, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I couldn’t wait to see more.
I paid off the driver, and then led the way through to the hotel reception, proud to have beautiful young Waħīdah Ǻbbās on my arm, proud yet cautious of the admiring looks Waħīdah Ǻbbās was getting.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās clung to my arm as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I waited in the short queue at reception, both of us chatting away happily.
When Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I reached the reception desk, I gave the receptionist our name, and then waited while she found our paperwork.
As she looked through it, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I both became aware of the looks the receptionist was giving us.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās giggled.
“She thinks I’m either your wife or at least your Musalmān girlfriend,” she told me, hardly able to hold back her giggles.
The receptionist gave me the booking in form to sign with a frosty smile, and asked to see our passports.
I handed over the passports, and then looked at the form the receptionist had asked me to sign.
“I’m sorry,” I told her a few minutes later, “there’s been a mistake. I booked two single rooms, not one twin room.”
As the receptionist took the form back, I rummaged through my bag and pulled out the e-mail confirmation I’d received.
I also had the screen print form when I booked the hotel over the Internet.
“Look – there,” I pointed.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked as well.
“Durgesh darling,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried mischievously, seductively, naughtily. “It is wrong – look at the boxes your secretary ticked erroneously. You’ve booked one, Double Bed room, instead of two, Single Bed rooms.
She pointed at the e-mail.
I stared at the paper in front of me.
It suddenly dawned on me what my secretary had done.
“You can’t be trusted with secretaries, can you?” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me, only half joking as she saw our weekend being spoilt in front of us.
I told her not to worry, that I would sort it out.
But, as the receptionist explained, the hotel was fully booked.
If Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I wanted two rooms, then Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I would have to look elsewhere.
I looked helplessly at Waħīdah Ǻbbās.
“We’ll take it,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās announced firmly. “After all,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me softly, trying to make me feel better, “There is a Double Bed – and a bathroom to get changed in.”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I finished booking in, gave the still disbelieving receptionist My credit card details, and then followed the porter to the lifts, and the eighth floor.
He opened the door to our room for us, and placed our cases just inside.
As I tipped him, he gave a knowing wink.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās squeezed my arm, telling me to ignore the porter.
He thought Waħīdah Ǻbbās my young wife or young Musalmān girlfriend and we were here to enjoy sex with each other.
It was normal for him to welcome aged Hindu multimillionaires with their sexy young Musalmān secretaries/ girlfriends.
I followed Waħīdah Ǻbbās into the room.
Like so many hotel rooms, there was a short corridor, with the bathroom off to one side.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās popped her around the door to look inside.
It was actually quite big, with a partially sunken bath as well as a separate shower cubicle.
When Waħīdah Ǻbbās came out, she saw that I had stopped.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās walked up behind me, and took in the rest of the room.
It was quite large, with sliding doors out to a balcony which overlooked the city, and a LARGE DOUBLE BED.
She stopped, her eyes frozen on the bed.
I recovered first.
“Don’t worry,” I told her, “It’s probably just two beds pushed together – I’ll get the hotel to move us.”
“Look,” I added, as I flipped up the bed clothes to show her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I both stared.
There was only one set of legs.
It was only one bed.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I stared at each other.
I eventually broke the silence.
“I’ll get us another room.”
“How?” Waħīdah Ǻbbās asked. “You heard what that receptionist said.” She stared at me for a moment longer. “We’ll just have to put pillows between us like when we were kids.”
Despite myself, I laughed at the memory of when Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had all gone to Disneyland six or seven years before.
The hotel room had two big beds, so Waħīdah Ǻbbās had shared with me.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had used pillows to split the bed into two, but by the time Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had finished, the pillows had begun to look like a barricade.
“Are you sure?” I asked, totally fed up with myself for getting it all so wrong.
“Yes,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told, squeezing my arm reassuringly.
“Now come on, I’m starved. Let’s get unpacked, and then get some lunch,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās added, more brightly than Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt, but wanting to cheer me up.
An hour later, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I were sat in the warm spring sunshine, outside a cosy café towards the top end of Las Ramblas, a wonderfully entertaining street in the centre of Barcelona, eating omelettes, Waħīdah Ǻbbās even enjoying a bottle of red wine.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I ate and Waħīdah Ǻbbās drank.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I felt more relaxed, the problems of the last few hours disappeared, and Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I started to plan our weekend.
I was torn between sight seeing and going to the Nou Camp stadium to soak up the atmosphere and watch football, while Waħīdah Ǻbbās wanting nothing more than to visit all the shops Waħīdah Ǻbbās could find, looking at the sights as Waħīdah Ǻbbās went.
In the end, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I decided Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I would try and do everything.
“Okay, let’s go for it,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me, before adding mischievously, “So long as we go shopping first!”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I spent the afternoon shopping.
I actually quite enjoyed it, glad to see Waħīdah Ǻbbās so happy as Waħīdah Ǻbbās took me from shop to shop, trying on dozens of items for every one Waħīdah Ǻbbās bought.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I even went shopping for me, as I gave in at last to Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s pleas for me to “get with it!”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I still hadn’t finished when the shops began to close.
“There’s always tomorrow,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me, skipping out of the way as I playfully swung a shopping bag at her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I strolled the half a mile or so back to the hotel, our arms linked, enjoying each other’s company as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I always did.
Back at the hotel, I had a quick shower and then left the bathroom free for Waħīdah Ǻbbās.
When I heard her in the shower, I leisurely dressed, putting on the new clothes that Waħīdah Ǻbbās had left out for me.
When Waħīdah Ǻbbās re-appeared, Waħīdah Ǻbbās was dressed and ready to go out.
“What do you think?” Waħīdah Ǻbbās asked, spinning around to show off her new outfit.
While my wolf whistle was meant to be playful, I couldn’t help thinking how good Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had put on a tiny amount of make up, just enough to highlight her extremely sexy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān features.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was wearing a short, flared skirt and high heels, both of which helped to show off her legs to perfection.
The skirt fitted just tightly enough around her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass to show just how sexy it was.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās wore a vest top with very thin straps, with a shirt over the top of it.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had left the shirt unbuttoned, and I couldn’t help but notice how the vest clung to the shape of Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s pert Musalmān breasts.
“You look beautiful, sweet heart,” I told her, “You make me so proud.”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās hugged me, telling me I “looked even more killingly handsome than I myself realized”.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I stood close together, I suddenly realised just how good it felt to have Waħīdah Ǻbbās in my arms like this, just how sexy Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt against me.
I let go of her as if I’d been burnt, Mumbling something about us “needing to go out” as Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked at me quizzically.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I ate in the hotel restaurant.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I took our time, and even I felt relaxed as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I looked forward to the next few days.
After dinner, Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I went for a walk around the place de Catalunya, strolling slowly amongst
the fountains and statues, enjoying the atmosphere.
By the time Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I got back to the hotel, it was quite late.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I went into our room, there was – just for a moment – an uncertain silence between us, as if Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I didn’t quite know what to do.
But then I went into the bathroom for a quick wash.
When I came out, Waħīdah Ǻbbās was sat on the edge of the bed.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās glanced across at me as I came back into the room bare chested.
She stood up, her pyjamas in her hand, and went to take her turn in the bathroom, smiling at me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās brushed past me.
I sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly unsure about sharing a room, let alone a bed, with Waħīdah Ǻbbās.
I glanced at myself in the mirror, and quickly decided to get changed.
I grabbed the pyjama’s I’d bought earlier and quickly unwrapped them.
I didn’t normally wear pyjama’s, preferring to sleep in the nude or in an old tee shirt if it was cold.
But while there were out shopping I had bought some just for the weekend.
I stood up, quickly pulled my trousers and underwear off.
As I stood naked, reaching out for my pyjamas, I caught sight of myself in the mirror.
“Amazing,” I thought, smiling to myself.
At sixty four, I did still look okay.
I always kept my tan, and had managed to avoid putting on too much weight over the years.
While my muscular legs and chest have not softened even slightly with the passing of time, I knew that I could still draw the odd admiring look when I was on the beach.
As I stood naked, my pyjama’s still in my hand, the bathroom door burst open.
I sat down abruptly on the edge of the bed, holding my pyjama’s still in my hand, not even covering my Uncut Hindu Lund and balls, my face startled.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās stopped dead, looking at me, feeling very embarrassed both for her and me.
I looked at her, my mouth suddenly very grave.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was wearing her favourite Winnie the pooh pyjamas.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had had them for years, so they were now a bit too small, but she still loved to wear them.
The short sleeved top, which had once been baggy on her, now fitted snugly over her Musalmān breasts, her nipples clearly visible.
I stared at her, at the picture of the bear on the front, at the way the picture moved with her, with her body, with her Musalmān breasts, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās breathed.
Her pyjama bottoms were shorts, and while they had once reached her knees, they were now half way up her tanned thighs.
Behind her, in the other wall mirror, I could see just how tight they were over her firm Musalmān ass, how they clung to her soft Musalmān curves.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās stared at my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund dumbfounded.
We both were in trance.
For how much time, none of us knew.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās just kept staring at my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund dumbfounded.
I kept watching Waħīdah Ǻbbās.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās recovered first.
“Come on Durgesh darling, get a move on,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās told me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās crossed to the other side of the room, doing her best not to look in my direction as she started to put her clothes away in the wardrobe.
“Waħīdah Ǻbbās, I’m trying to get changed,” I told her, saying the first thing that came into my head.
I felt angry with myself for getting us into this mess, and with Waħīdah Ǻbbās for being so sexy, so beautiful.
And with myself for the way my Uncut Hindu Lund was reacting openly.
“Oh come on, Durgesh darling, I won’t look.”
“Well you better not,” I told her, trying not to look in her direction, my voice unexpectedly gruff.
“And if I do? I’ve already more than enough. I’ve already digested too much what the unique you have for us womankind.” Waħīdah Ǻbbās teased me.
“I’ll have to spank you,” I retorted, automatically using our standard joke.
I glanced in the mirror and saw that Waħīdah Ǻbbās was looking away now.
I carefully shook my pyjamas to unfold them, before standing up to step into them.
I glanced up again.
This time I saw Waħīdah Ǻbbās in the mirror, looking in my direction.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās could obviously see my buttocks, but that wasn’t where Waħīdah Ǻbbās was looking.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was looking in the mirror as well, at my reflection, at my rock hard Uncut Hindu Lund swaying in front of me, at my heavy Hindu balls hanging beneath.
I dragged my pyjamas up my legs and sat down.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had been looking at me so openly.
Or had I imagined it?
Her voice was small, so quiet I could hardly hear her, even though Waħīdah Ǻbbās was now stood next to me.
I felt angry again, at her, at myself.
I reached out and grabbed Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s arm, dragging her to me and throwing her over my knee.
“I told you what would happen,” I almost shouted, as my hand crashed down onto her perfect big ass, barely hidden by the thin material stretched tightly over her hot Musalmān body.
She screamed and wriggling, kicking her legs as my hand crashed down again.
I felt the heat of her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass against my hand as I smacked her for a third time.
I stopped, breathing heavily, my hand resting on her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, her heat radiating through to me.
I was suddenly aware of her Musalmān breasts and belly against my leg, of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her pyjama top had ridden up and I looked down at her back, at her smooth skin, at her beautiful sun tan, at the small tattoo at the base of her spine, at the way her narrow waist flared out to meet the soft curves of her hips and ass.
A groan escaped from deep within me as I ran my hand softly over her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, and up onto her back, feeling the shape of her sexy Musalmān body.
I slipped my hand into the back of her shorts, pulling them down as I ran the tip of my middle finger down between her cheeks, knowing it was wrong but totally unable to stop myself.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās gasped, trying to take in what was happening, trying to understand why the pain Waħīdah Ǻbbās had felt was now being overwhelmed by the pleasure shooting through her.
“Durgesh,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried, wriggling harder as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my finger scratching lightly over her puckered Musalmān bum, as waves of pleasure washed through her.
“Durgesh, stop,” she moaned, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my hard Uncut Hindu Lund against her belly, as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot flooded, as She pressed her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot herself down against my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I sensed the change in her, but couldn’t work out what it was.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was still wriggling, but her movements were now more deliberate, more controlled.
My already hard Uncut Hindu Lund stiffened even more as I realised that Waħīdah Ǻbbās was actually rubbing her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot against it, against the hardness of my knee.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās thought Waħīdah Ǻbbās was going to faint.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, her whole body, ached with the pleasure surging through her.
Her nipples felt like they were ready to burst they felt so hard.
And beneath her, Waħīdah Ǻbbās could feel the hardness, the heat, of mine.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās couldn’t stop herself.
It was as if a floodgate had suddenly opened.
She pressed her whole body down against me, wanting me.
With a groan, I felt Waħīdah Ǻbbās press down against me.
I pushed my hand further into her pyjamas, reaching down between her legs to find her hot Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried out as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my Uncut Hindu Lund on her, suddenly scared, very scared, by the depths of her feelings, of her need, of her desire for me, of her need for release.
She scrambled away from me, falling onto the floor before quickly standing up.
Her chest was heaving, her nipples rock hard against the thin material of her top.
There was a dark patch on her shorts where Waħīdah Ǻbbās had been rubbing against me.
I looked Waħīdah Ǻbbās up and down, drinking in her sexiness, my heart thumping.
I saw her eyes looking down at me.
Glancing down, I realised for the first time that my Uncut Hindu Lund had escaped through the open fly of my pyjamas, and was now stood erect, all eight inches of it, thick and hard, the head red and engorged, and already wet with pre cum.
I felt my Uncut Hindu Lund jerk.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās’s eyes widened as Waħīdah Ǻbbās watched my Uncut Hindu Lund swaying.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās didn’t resist, didn’t want to resist, instead when Waħīdah Ǻbbās herself grabbed me, plunging herself to me, her mind blanked by lust.
Her shorts were half ripped away from her body as she grabbed them and plunged herself towards me.
I caught a fleeting glimpse of her red hair, but then Waħīdah Ǻbbās was straddling me, neither of us sure of what was happening, neither of us wanting to stop, but both of us knowing that Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I had to.
“Durgesh,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās almost sobbed as Waħīdah Ǻbbās knelt over my lap, her knees on the bed each side of my nude Hindu male thighs.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās didn’t feel in control of her body any more.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās could feel my hands on her hips, the unbearable heat of my Uncut Hindu Lund against her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās groaned.
“Durgesh, I’ve never ……..”
And then Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my hands pulling her down onto me.
Her knees collapsed under her, and Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt the searing heat of my rigid Uncut Hindu Lund driving upwards into her ardent Musalmān body.
“….. done this before …” Waħīdah Ǻbbās finished, my Uncut Hindu Lund already deep inside her like a rod of steel.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās screamed with pain, with desire, as My Uncut Hindu Lund tore into her body.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās automatically straightened her legs, lifting herself away from me.
She sobbed, tears welling up in her eyes.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked at me, at the awful confused, pained expression on my face, at the horror at what had happened, what she’d done, in my ever experienced Hindu male eyes.
“Oh Durgesh,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās breathed, lowering her body back onto mine.
This time it was I who was frozen, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās lowered her sexy young body back down onto me.
She moved slowly, almost gingerly, reaching down to hold my Uncut Hindu Lund, her hand barely big enough to reach around my thick Hindu shaft. Waħīdah Ǻbbās wrapped her other arm round my neck as she eased my Uncut Hindu Lund back into her body, wanting me, wanting my Uncut Hindu Lund, desperately.
I held her hips lightly, not quite believing what was happening, watching Waħīdah Ǻbbāss face as Waħīdah Ǻbbās lowered herself onto my throbbing Uncut Hindu Lund.
I couldn’t believe how hot, how wet, how tight Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt as the engorged head of my Uncut Hindu Lund slid into her.
I somehow resisted the urge to push my Uncut Hindu Lund into her as deep as I could, to pull her hips down onto me, and let Waħīdah Ǻbbās take her time.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās lowered herself onto my lap, Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot lips stretching around my Uncut Hindu Lund as it slipped into her.
The pain Waħīdah Ǻbbās had felt was being washed away by the strength of her pleasure as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot moulded itself to every ridge, every contour, of my Uncut Hindu Lund.
With a deep groan, she settled onto my lap, all eight inches of my thick Uncut Hindu Lund buried inside her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was in awe of her body, of the pleasure surging through her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had no idea how all of that wonderful Uncut Hindu Lund had fitted inside her, but it had.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt so full, as if my Uncut Hindu Lund was reaching up to between her Musalmān breasts.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās wrapped her arms around My neck and looked into my ever experienced Hindu male eyes, seeing the same need, the same desire in my ever experienced Hindu male eyes as Waħīdah Ǻbbās was sure I could see in hers.
Her legs were spread wide, her knees each side of me.
It felt as though Waħīdah Ǻbbās was being split apart by my Uncut Hindu Lund, speared deep inside her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās could feel my balls against her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, my hands stroking her hips, running softly over her body.
Still looking into my ever experienced Hindu male eyes, she eased herself up on my Uncut Hindu Lund, feeling it sliding out of her a few inches before dropping back onto me.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās wiggled her perfectly round gorgeous exquisite excellent voluptuous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass a little, and then lifted herself again, enjoying the wonderful sensations flooding her body more and more, enjoying the feel of my Uncut Hindu Lund deepest inside her, the feel of my skin peeling back over my Uncut Hindu Lund head each time she moved her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot up and down my Hindu length.
It seemed natural for us to kiss, tentatively at first, our lips barely touching.
But then Waħīdah Ǻbbāsicked slowly along My lips, before poking her tongue between them, feeling our way inside my mouth.
Moments later, our lips were locked together, our tongues thrusting and exploring.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I kissed, I pulled Waħīdah Ǻbbās to me, feeling her Musalmān breasts, her hard nipples against my chest even through her flimsy pyjamas, our hips now moving as one.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I broke our kiss, staring at each other as Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I gasped for breath, our lips still for a moment.
Silently, Waħīdah Ǻbbās reached for the hem of her top, and pulled it slowly up her body and over her head.
I gasped, my Uncut Hindu Lund jerking inside her, as the rest of her body was uncovered.
My ever experienced Hindu male eyes moved with her, following the edge of her top upwards.
Firstly, it was her flat, well toned belly with the little gold cross nestling in her belly button.
I had always been against her having her navel pierced, but now all I could think about was how sexy it looked, Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked.
As the top went up higher, my hands moved from her hips and slowly up the sides of her slender body, her skin smooth and soft under my touch.
Gradually, as if in slow motion, the soft swell of her Musalmān breasts came into view.
I moaned, my hands tightening around her, as her sexy young Musalmān breasts were unveiled to me.
They were bigger than I’d ever imagined, but still firm, very firm and beautifully shaped.
They seemed to turn upwards at the end, and were slightly conical shaped, her nipples hard and swollen, the aureoles dark and wide.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās saw how I was looking at her, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot throbbing at the expression on my face.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās held still for a few long moments, her arms above her head, her Musalmān breasts thrust out to me, wanting me, as I feasted on her extraordinary Musalmān beauty.
I reached out to her, my hands moving smoothly across her body to cup her Musalmān breasts.
I sighed as I felt her firmness beneath my hands, just as Waħīdah Ǻbbās sighed as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my hands on her, the rough skin on my thumbs scraping lightly over her sensitive nipples.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās threw her top onto the floor and pulled my head to her.
I pressed my head into her cleavage, my hands still on her Musalmān breasts, the two of us still for a moment except for the gentle movement of our hips, of my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her.
I watched as her nipples puckered and tightened even more under my touch as I moved from one to the other I squeezed them gently, and then harder.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās held my head to her, wanting, needing, my attention, her hips rising as Waħīdah Ǻbbās began to fuck my thick, hard Uncut Hindu Lund again.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I moved as one, my Uncut Hindu Lund ploughing into her, stretching her, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās clung to me, as I squeezed her Musalmān breasts and nipples, my hands roaming easily over her body.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt as though My Uncut Hindu Lund was filling her entire body.
It felt huge inside her – and Waħīdah Ǻbbās loved it.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās loved the way it filled her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, reaching deep inside her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās loved the way it moved, the way her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot wrapped itself around it.
And Waħīdah Ǻbbās loved the way the pain, the dull ache, Waħīdah Ǻbbās had felt was now being replaced by waves of intense, almost painful, pleasure.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās had felt nothing like it ever before.
The pleasure filling her, reaching the very ends of her body, was amazing, and was being driven there by my stunning Uncut Hindu Lund inside her body, by my hands on her body, by my mouth on her Musalmān breasts.
Everything was a blur as Waħīdah Ǻbbās clung to me, holding me tighter and tighter as the pleasure inside her became almost unbearable.
Our hips, our bodies, were moving faster now, my Uncut Hindu Lund reaching deeper and deeper inside her as everything else was forgotten except for our pleasure.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried out as her orgasm tore through her body, wave after wave of intense pleasure.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās threw her head back, her chest flushed, her body tense, as I buried my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her and clung to her, in awe of her reaction, of the pleasure Waħīdah Ǻbbās was enjoying.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was almost sobbing with relief as her body relaxed, as I began fucking her again.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās was bouncing up and down on my lap as I drove my Uncut Hindu Lund wildly into her, her Musalmān breasts bouncing in front of me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās rode my violent Hindu thrusts, as she straddled my knees, pushing down to meet my Uncut Hindu Lund as I drove it deepest into her body.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I fucked, her juices poured from her onto my Uncut Hindu Lund and balls, the room echoing to the wet sounds of our bodies moving together.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my Uncut Hindu Lund grow even bigger inside her as my climax approached, as another climax washed through her.
As my Hindu cum threatened to erupt inside from me, I started to lift Waħīdah Ǻbbās away from my Uncut Hindu Lund.
“No,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās cried, understanding what I was trying to do, “it’s okay. Give it to me inside, please.”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās drove her body downwards, using her weight to drive my Uncut Hindu Lund back inside her just as my balls contracted and sent my Hindu cum into her body in thick jets.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I both cried out, I at my release and Waħīdah Ǻbbās at the feel of my Hindu cum filling her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, mixing with her juices.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I clung together, my Uncut Hindu Lund throbbing inside her, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot squeezing my n cum from me.
I collapsed backwards on the bed, breathless, my muscular body slick with sweat.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās lay down on top of me, her cheek resting on my chest, my softening Uncut Hindu Lund still filling her hot, wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
“I love you, Durgesh,” Waħīdah Ǻbbās murmured, hugging me as Waħīdah Ǻbbās felt my arms around her, “I love you now even more than I ever did before. Thank you. Thank you very much for accepting me in your life forever, my dear Hindu husband.”
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I lay still for long moments, savouring the feel of each other, before Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I inevitably thought about what had happened.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I both knew that Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I should be feeling guilty, but Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I didn’t.
All Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I knew was that Waħīdah Ǻbbās and I wanted it more, much more.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās got up slowly.
As Waħīdah Ǻbbās knelt beside me, I propped myself up on my elbows, looking at her.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās leant over and kissed me softly, her hand resting on my belly.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās looked down at my Uncut Hindu Lund.
It was still semi erect, lying at the base of my belly, still slick with cum and juices.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās giggled at the fact that I still had my pyjama bottoms on, at the huge wet patch from her juices.
Waħīdah Ǻbbās dragged them down my legs, leaving me naked, and then got up off the bed.
I watched her, drinking in her ardent Musalmān nakedness, her beauty, as Waħīdah Ǻbbās crossed the room and went into the bathroom.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Ǻrab Sheikħ shifted his right hand to a position near the first lapel of his green coat.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand caught a glimpse of a revolver in a shoulder holster.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled.
Still having faith in violent means and strategies.
Ħuzūr S.A.W were compelled to use violent means in his divine holy lifetime to establish peace everywhere.
He S.A.W couldn’t do it another way.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand was sure if Ħuzūr S.A.W were today he S.A.W would never have resorted to any violent means whatsoever.
The modern Ǻrab Sheikħs were never capable to understand Muħsin-e-insāniyat S.A.W.
They had erroneously surrendered to Ǻrab Imperialism in the name of Islam.
Consequently they had themselves killed the mission of Ħuzūr S.A.W unknowingly, imprudently.
Ved Nagar was a City of Shaktimāns.
What could the dog or his revolver do if Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand used his mind/spiritual power?
Present day Musalmīn, Pseudo Musalmīn actually, had faith in the means Yazīd Malåūn had more than in the faith Ħuzūr S.A.W had.
The dog, facing the door, elevated his tail, the tip of it waving to and fro.
A bolt shot on the inside of the door.
The Ǻrab Sheikħ opened the door for an inch or two.
A safety chain was holding it in that position.
A porch light clicked on, outlining Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand in brilliance.
“Who are you?” The Ǻrab Sheikħ asked Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, “What do you want?”
“I’m looking for the master of this mansion.”
“I’d prefer to tell that to himself only.”
“Give me some hint to tell him why you want to meet him.”
“About some properties he has here at Ved Nagar.”
“As far as I know, the Boss is interested only in purchasing the properties here, not in selling.”
“This mansion is also owned by the Mayor himself?”
“Not by the Mayor of Ved Nagar. It’s on his personal name along with Begum Sāliħah Ayyūb.”
“I’d like to meet anyone of them.”
“Well, not as late as tonight now. Go back to wherever you have come from, or to a hotel. Call on him after ten o’clock in the morning.” The Ǻrab Sheikħ started to close the door.
Then, something about the dog’s attitude caught the attention of the Ǻrab Sheikħ.
He asked suspiciously.
“Hey, how the hell did you get past that dog?”
“I happen to know something about their psychology.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled graciously.
“Well, the dog is not supposed to let anyone out of a car after dark.”
“It seems the dog made an exception in my case,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand kept smiling politely yet gracefully, “I just got out of the car and…”
“Why the hell the dog made an exception for you?”
“Ask your dog.”
The Ǻrab Sheikħ frowned,
“Just who are you anyway?”
“I’m trying to find out something about Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.”
The Ǻrab Sheikħ’s face became rigidly immobile.
“Know anything about her?” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand asked politely in his sweetest voice.
“No,” The Ǻrab Sheikħ said, and slammed the door.
“Her bodyguard has been found murdered early this morning.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand called through the closed door.
He was taking safe risks using the general psychology of the Ǻrab Sheikħs.
There was no response.
Yet, on the other hand, Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand heard no sound of steps in the corridor.
It indicated the Ǻrab Sheikħ hadn’t turned away from the door.
It further indicated the Ǻrab Sheikħ was hesitating whether to turn away or he should open the door.
It was the correct psychological moment to attack psychologically further more.
“Al Samīnah Al Qāsim stopped here.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand said gravely, “Her bodyguard was driving the car. Al Samīnah Al Qāsim had her gasoline tank filled here.”
There was a pause, then the door jerked open.
“What was that you said?” The Ǻrab Sheikħ demanded.
“I said Al Samīnah Al Qāsim stopped here sometime around twelve thirty o’clock in the morning and had her gas tank filled.”
“You must be drunk or crazy. I neither know which nor do I give a damn. Now, get back in your car or I’ll tell the dog to tear your leg off.”
“Do that and I’ll sue you persons for damages. It would be a fun to wind up owning a Ved Nagar ranch of you persons.”
“It isn’t that easy, my boy.”
“Go on,” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand told the Ǻrab Sheikħ, “Tell your dog to tear of my leg and see what happens.”
“What the hell you want?”
“I want to ask something about Al Samīnah Al Qāsim.”
“She isn’t here.”
“What if she was?”
“Ask the Mayor or Begum Sāliħah Ayyūb.” Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled cunningly, “Being an arrogant dumb Ǻrab Sheikħ you may not understand what if Al Samīnah Al Qāsim was here while her bodyguard is found murdered, but neither Durgesh nor his Begum Sāliħah Ayyūb maybe as dumb as you are. Your indiscreet arrogance never allows you to use your wisdoms. Or, don’t you have any wisdom at all, man?”*
There followed a long moment.
During the moment, the heavy, sinewy, powerful Ǻrab Sheikħ, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, behind the door, met Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand’s smart and brilliant eyes in thoughtful appraisal.
He turned and looked at Amīnah Zahīr and me for instructions.
Just Eighteen Just Adult Amīnah Zahīr was still nude on her back.
I was still between her glorious Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān legs.
My sixty four years old, utmost experienced, Musalmān Cunts Champion Uncut Hindu Lund was still enjoying its victory over the Just Eighteen Just Adult Musalmān Cunt, visiting it triumphantly, proudly, vigorously.
Amīnah Zahīr impishly nodded to Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr.
She didn’t hesitate even for a second to face Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, while I was fucking her.
Ved Nagar Constitution allowed her.
That’s only what Amīnah Zahīr cared about.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was her ideal.
And Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was a proud nudist feminist, even now when Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was the Everfirst President of Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.
It was the visitor’s responsibility to choose whether s/he wanted to see a pair in lovemaking or not.
The Citizens of Ved Nagar were constitutionally allowed to make love anywhere they damn pleased publicly.
The persons having objection, could leave the place, if they didn’t want to see them in making love.
Being himself a citizen of Ved Nagar Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand knew it very well.
Getting permission from Amīnah Zahīr, the Just Eighteen Just Adult young lady, involved in lovemaking with me, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr removed the safety chain from the door.
He invited them in.
“Come in. They are in lovemaking. But if you haven’t any taboo in watching them making love, you may come in.
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand smiled.
“Thank you. None of us has any taboo whatsoever against watching our hosts making love. It’s their mansion. It’s their privilege.”
“Okay, you may come in, Mr.─?”
“Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand.”
“All right, Mr. Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand, come in.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand turned back toward the car,
“Come on, Bājī, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Muħammad bin Qāsim,” he called.
“What about that damned dog?” Muħammad bin Qāsim called irritably, “Can’t you put him in his damned closet?”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said curtly,
“The dog remains where he is. However, he won’t do anything unless I tell him to.”
“You, caretaker here?” Muħammad bin Qāsim asked trying to humiliate Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled curtly,
“Never mind. Don’t bother your child brain to understand my status here. Nevertheless, I’m representing Imām Muħammad Ħasan here, if it’s any of your damned business.”
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand interfered.
“We are also representing Imām Muħammad Ħasan. There isn’t anything to be arrogant to each other.”
“Imām Muħammad Ħasan didn’t inform me of you peoples’ arrival on his behalf, neither Muħammad Åbdullah bothered to do so.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan opened the door.
Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim followed her Nanad Bājī, her sister in law.
Both of them slid out to the ground, walked confidently toward the porch, watching Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand standing there.
The dog turned to regard them, gave a low throated, ominous growl, but made no move.
Muħammad bin Qāsim had put one foot on the ground.
However, as soon as he heard the growl, Muħammad bin Qāsim promptly returned to the automobile and slammed the door.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr eyed Muħammad bin Qāsim scornfully,
“Shame on you. Even the ladies are more daring. Damn you. It’s all right.” then he turned to the dog, “Shut up, Shérū!”
The dog ceased growling, regarded Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s confident approach with hard-eyed appraisal, ignoring Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim altogether, then slowly waved the tip of his tail.
Muħammad bin Qāsim, observed that Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim made it all right.
He opened the door once more, placed his right foot on the ground tentatively, cautiously, followed it with his left foot, and took two or three guardedly diffident, timid, steps toward the porch.
The dog bristled, stiffened, growled, then suddenly made a lunge for Muħammad bin Qāsim.
Muħammad bin Qāsim whirled, raced back into the car just as the snarling dog flung himself against the door, his teeth snapping at the metal.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr opened the door, ran out on the porch, yelled,
“Shérū! Down! Damn it, Shérū, get down!”
The dog looked back over his shoulder.
Slowly and reluctantly, the dog sank to a crouching position on the ground.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled to himself.
That’s what he himself was to his wife, Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā.
When Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā scolded him, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr did also sink to crouching position, near her beautiful sacred Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān feet.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan wanted all of them that way.
Moreover, they hadn’t another option.
He was proud of himself that he was a cuckold to his extremely beautiful wife, Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā and her Hindu lover, Durgesh, the greatest.
Ved Nagar was an actual Democratic City State.
Otherwise, the cuckold Musalmīn could never celebrate their Independence day openly.
Durgesh was against it.
Most of the HVSI persons were against it.
Nevertheless, most of them allowed the proposal to put to vote.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr was immensely glad when the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI ultimately announced the victory of the cuckold Musalmīn.
They were allowed to celebrate their Independence day.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and her entire Seven movements Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Durgesh Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ Sex Therapy and Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah Social Service supported the cuckold Musalmīn.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr was immensely indebted and grateful to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
He shouted to the dog.
“Here, Shérū, come here. Come here to me!”
The dog turned and came toward Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr as though expecting a beating.
“Damn you,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said, “I told you not to do that. Now you get down and stay down.”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr walked to the car confidently with immense self-pride.
He wasn’t ashamed of himself that he was a cuckold husband.
Neither any of his cuckold friends was.
They had successfully formed a Cuckold Society maintaining their own kind of freedom with their extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies and their Hindu lovers/live in relationship partners.
It was a punishable crime now in Ved Nagar to disgrace them or their society.
It was a Society of Triples, instead of couples, supported by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself.
The Musalmān wife, Hindu lover/live in relationship partner and Musalmān husband were the three members of a legal unit of it.
So many Musalmīn were against it, yet there were some Musalmīn too that supported the movement Cuckold Your Musalmān husband.
Their demand was ‘Cuckold the entire terrorists to disgrace and punish them publicly.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā herself for them, reincarnated.
Muħammad bin Qāsim was watching Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr curiously.
“Come in,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said to Muħammad bin Qāsim, “Shérū won’t hurt you now.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim looked past Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr at the dog, and said huskily,
“If that damned dog makes a pass at me, I’m going to shoot at him.”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr eyed Muħammad bin Qāsim with cold hard eyes.
“You would do nothing of the sort if you don’t want to get hurt yourself. If you hurt the dog even infinitesimal, I’d break your damned neck. Understand?”
Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted.
“You damned cuckold, I know everything about you. Never try to threaten me again, you shameless creature.”
“Well, it’s better to be shameless as I am than being shameful as you are. Now, come on.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim gritted through his teeth helplessly, quite annoyed.
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr was smiling at Muħammad bin Qāsim with quite a smirk on his face,
“My boy, you won’t have any trouble with Shérū as long as you get out and come in moving confidently.”
“You bloody cuckold, are you teaching me how to behave with that damned dog?” Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted quite irritated now.
“Sure, you impotent,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr laughed.
“Damn you. I’m not impotent.” Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted again.
“Your girlfriends claim that you are.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled deliberately humiliating Muħammad bin Qāsim now.
“They are horny bitches. They claim my impotence only because they want to get sympathy of Durgesh and his legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund.”
“If you were a man why the hell your Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girlfriends would need Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund instead of your cut Musalmān nūnī?”
“Cut Musalmān Lund.” Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted irritably.
“Cut Musalmān nūnī.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr laughed.
“Cut Musalmān Lund.”
“Cut Musalmān nūnī.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr repeated, “That’s what your girlfriends call your entirely incompetent bloody sexual organ. Don’t they, my boy?”
“Shut up, you bloody cuckold.”
“It’s better to be even a cuckold than being impotent.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr kept laughing at Muħammad bin Qāsim.*
Muħammad bin Qāsim was surprised at the cuckold’s entirely unashamed aggressive behavior.
“Oh, come on.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said, “Move confidently but don’t ever start running from a dog, and don’t ever act as though you were afraid.”
“Stand still and let the damned dog tear a leg off, I suppose. Isn’t it?” Muħammad bin Qāsim said sarcastically.
“Impotent, your Jījū and your sisters didn’t have any trouble,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr pointed out, “did they?”
“The trouble I had,” Muħammad bin Qāsim told Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, “was enough to make up for all the four of us.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim eased himself out of the automobile and followed Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr to the porch.
“Come in,” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr invited them, “Shérū, get the hell back out of the way.”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr aimed a halfhearted kick imitating his ever-dominant wife, Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā used to aim at him with her foot.
He used to enjoy both the actions.
Zaynab bint Åāmir Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā kicking him with her foot as if he was her dog, instead of her husband and imitating her himself with Shérū and other dogs.
His critics laughed at him.
“You love blasphemy, don’t you?” his worst critic, Imām Salāħuddīn Ayyūbī had watched Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr scornfully once.
“How do you mean?” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled at him as if it wasn’t anything abnormal.
“Your wife is also Zaynab bint Åāmir but she isn’t certainly Umm Ruman razī Allāhu tålā ånahā. Is she?”
“I respect her this way. Can’t I even respect my wife? Damn you.”
“Isn’t it a fact that when your wife gets fucked by Durgesh sitting on his lap, she uses you as her footrest, as her pedestal?”
“So what? I love it. I enjoy it.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr smiled proudly, entirely unashamed of himself.
“You clean Durgesh’s legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund after Durgesh sodomizes your wife, by sucking him taking it in your mouth. Don’t you?”
“It’s a new society, Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. Try to understand it Imām Sāħab.”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Tang aa chukā thā main.
“Mérī samajh mein nahīn ātā, Ħamīd, ki agar Taħannus Bhābhījān vāqaåī vaisī hī hain bhī, jaisī tum kah rahé ho, to ismein ākħir tumhén kyā åetrāz ho saktā hai? Yah Taħannus Bhābhījān kā personal måmlah hai.”
“Hai nahīn, thā.” Ħamīd né jaltī āwāz mein kahā.
“Tum yah isīliyé kah rahé ho na, ki Taħannus Bhābhījān tumhārī apnī sagī Bhābhī nahīn hain?”
“Mainé Zubayr Bhāījān ko kabhī sirf térā bađā bhāī nahīn samjhā, Ħamīd.” mérā lahjah sanjīdah ho gayā, “Tū shāyad yah bhūl rahā hai ki Sabīħah Kħālājān sirf térī Ammī nahīn hain, mérī Kħālājān bhī hain.”
Ħamīd ké dil mein āyā ki kah dé,
“Durgesh, main Ammījān ko téré oopar chađh kar kħud tujhé burī taraħ kichkichā kichkichākar chodté dékh chukā hūn. Voh kaisī Kħālājān hain térī, yah kyā main jāntā nahīn?”
Lékin Tabhī usko yād aa gayā ki voh yah baat pahlé bhī mujhsé kah chukā hai.
Aur us vaqt mainé Ħamīd ko kyā jawāb diyā thā, yah bhī Ħamīd ko yād aa gayā.*
Ħamīd Yūsuf un logon mein sé thā jo Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan ké zariyé vyāpak rūp sé sarvatr phailāyé gayé is jhūŧh ko sach samajhté the ki main chausaŧh saal kā nahīn, sirf chautīs saal kā hūn.
Ħamīd Yūsuf kħud chautīs saal kā thā.
Zubayr Yūsuf Bhāījān chhattīs saal ké thé, lékin voh mujhé chautīs saal kā samajhkar mujhé apnā chhoŧa bhāī samajhté thé.
Jabki ħaqīqat yah thī ki main Zubayr Yūsuf Bhāījān sé mukammil aŧŧhāis saal bađā thā.
Mérā Svarūpé Avasthānam mujhé haméshah haméshah ké liyé naujawān banā chukā thā.
Main aŧŧhāis saal ké āspās kī ůmr kā hī dikhāī détā thā, chausaŧh saal kā hargiz nahīn.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan né méré is Svarūpé Avasthānam kā pūrā pūrā fāyedah uŧhāyā thā.
Mérī apné āpko Senior Citizen sābit karné kī tamām koshishén békār sābit huī thien.
Ħamīd Yūsuf talkħ lahjé mein bolā,
“Lagtā hai Taħannus Bhābhījān ko tum bhī chod chuké ho.”
“Eīshān Eīshān shammā shamīshān! Aré béwaqūf, main bhī Taħannus Bhābhījān ko mérī Bhābhī hī manta hūn térī taraħ. Main Zubayr Yūsuf Bhāījān ké åétmād ko dhokah nahīn dé saktā. Mujhé kyā åuraton kī kamī hai? Taħannus Bhābhījān hī rah gaī hain ab méré liyé tanhā kyā?”
“I see.” Ħamīd Yūsuf tanz āméz lahjé mein bolā, “Isīliyé Taħannus Bhābhījān jab bhī tujhé dekhtī hain fauran kisī na kisī bahāné térā legendary unique Uncut Hindu Lund pakađ létī hain aur téré lākh isrār karté rahné par bhī nahīn chhođtīn. Hai na?”
Main talkħ lahjé mein bolā,
“Iskā matlab yah ho gayā ki Taħannus Bhābhījān badchalan hain?”*
Ħamīd Yūsuf hans diyā,
“Sorry, yaar, main to bhūl hī gayā thā ki jo tujh sé chudvātī ho, voh badchalan ho hī nahīn saktī. Koī ħasīn Musalmān phuljhađī kisī aur sé chudvāyé to badchalan, lékin agar tujh sé chudvāyé, to mazlūm. Uskā kambakħt Musalmān shauhar zālim. Kyā karé béchārī, agar tujh sé na chudvāyé to? Hai na?”
“Sālé, Ħamīd Yūsuf ké bachché, mainé kahā na ki main térī Bhābhī ko nahīn chodtā.”
“Sach? To Taħannus Bhābhījān isliyé térā Uncut Hindu Lund pakađtī hain ki voh tujh sé bhī chudvānā chāhtī hain?”
“Mujhsé bhī nahīn, sirf mujhsé. Sālé, tujhé vaham ho gayā hai ki Taħannus Bhābhījān badchalan hain.”
“Bajā farmāyā, Mayor Sāħab, Mérī Taħannus Bhābhījān to itnī Pākdāman aur Sharīf hain, itnī måsūm hain ki yah bhī nahīn jāntīn, térā Uncut Hindu Lund pakađné sé unkī namāz adā nahīn hotī.”
“Koī to vajah hogī na, Ħamīd Yūsuf, jo térī Taħannus Bhābhījān mérā Uncut Hindu Lund pakađtī hain.”
“Tūné vāqaåī nahīn chodā Taħannus Bhābhījān ko aaj tak kabhī?”
“Agar chodā hotā to tujhé batāné mein kyā nuqsān hai mujhé? Mujhé maar dālégā tū?”
Ħamīd Yūsuf ék talkħ hansī hansā,
“Itné sāré Hinduon sé chudvātī hain Taħannus Bhābhījān. Kis kis ko maar saktā hūn main? Aur kyon mārūn, jab kħud Zubayr Bhāījān tak ko apnī Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān bīwī aur apné Hindu clients ké aésé tålluqāt par koī åetrāz nahīn hai?”*
Taħannus Bhābhījān kuchh is taraħ dafåtan wahān dākħil huīn, ki Ħamīd Yūsuf burī taraħ hađbađā uŧhā.
Usko lagā ki Taħannus Bhābhījān chhupkar hamārī bātén sun rahī thien.
Apnī ħaqīqī bađī Bhābhī sé nigāhén milā sakné kī himmat nahīn ho sakī Ħamīd Yūsuf kī.
“Main…main chaltā hūn.” Ħamīd Yūsuf uŧhtā huā bolā.
Un tīkhī, sīdhé dil ké ārpār utar jāné wālī mukammil īmāndār, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān nigāhon kī tāb lā saknā Ħamīd Yūsuf ké bas kī baat nahīn thī.
Ħamīd Yūsuf ko ħairat thī is baat par ki yah nihāyat hī badchalan åurat kaisé apné nihāyat hī Pākdāman, sharīf, åsmat-o-ůffat parast aur shauharparast honé kī itnī bahtarīn adākārī karné mein har martabah kāmyāb ho jātī hai.
Kaun nahīn jāntā aaj ki Shankar Mahāpralayankar Taħannus Bhābhījān kā khullam khulā practical Kħasam banā huā hai?
Zubayr Yūsuf Bhāījān tak is måmlé mein hathiyār dāl chuké hain.
“Kahān chāl diyé, Janāb?” Taħannus Bhābhījān né tanz āméz lahjé mein Ħamīd Yūsuf ko mukħātib kiyā.
“Jī? Jī, voh, Bhābhījān, mujhé Nadīm Bhāī ké yahān jānā thā.”
“Nadīm Bhāī?” Taħannus Bhābhījān talkħ lahjé mein bolīn, “Tum us zalīl shakħs ko abhī tak apnā bhāī samajhté ho jisné tumhārī Bhābhījān ko badnām karné kā mission chalā rakhā hai?”
“Bhābhījān, Nadīm Bhāī hamāré ħaqīqī bhāī hain.” Ħamīd Yūsuf sé bardāsht nahīn huā, “Āp jo tohmat Nadīm Bhāī par lagā rahī hain, voh sarāsar bébuniyād…”
“Kħāmosh, Ħamīd Yūsuf.” Taħannus Bhābhījān kisī intehāī zahrīlī nāgin kī taraħ phunphkārīn, “Tumhārā voh zalīl manjhlā bhāī tumhārī Ammī ké mānind ħaqīqī bađī Bhābhī ko Shankar Mahāpralayankar ké hāthon farokħt kar chukā hai.”
“Yah ék nihāyat hī ghinaunā ilzām hai, Bhābhījān.” Ħamīd Yūsuf burī taraħ uttéjit hokar bolā, “Nadīm Bhāī ko hamārī pushtainī jāyédād sé maħrūm karné ké liyé, unhén is Yūsuf Manzil sé bāhar nikālné ké liyé, un par itnā ghinaunā ilzām lagāyā hai āpné. Kyā samajhtī hain āp, Ammījān ko béwaqūf banā liyā āpné to Zubayr Yūsuf Bhāījān ko aur mujhé bhī béwaqūf banā sakné mein kāmyāb ho jāyéngī? Hum sab kħūb achchhī taraħ jānté hain ki āp Ammījān ko blackmail karké Yūsuf Group of Industries kī Managing Director banī hain. Zubayr Yūsuf Bhāījān āpké sāmné hathiyār dālné par isliyé majbūr hué ki voh Ammījān kī badnāmī kā risk nahīn lé sakté thé. Daulat hī sab kuchh nahīn hotī, Bhābhījān. Maghribī tahzīb né āpkī ānkhon par jo paŧŧī bāndh rakhī hai, voh jab khulégī to burī taraħ pachhtāné ké ålāvah aur kuchh nahīn kar sakéngī āp. Lékin tab pachhtāyé hot kyā jab chiđiyā chug gaī khét? Sab kuchh luŧā ké hosh mein āyé to kyā kiyā?”*
Taħannus Bhābhījān Ħamīd Yūsuf kī jānib dékhkar muskurāīn.
“Tum logon sé baħas karnā békār hai, Ħamīd Yūsuf. Jāntī hūn main yah. Tum tamām bhāī us Jāyédād par qābiz honé ké liyé maré jā rahé ho jis kī ħaqīqī mālkin, Ammījān, ké sāth haméshah tum logon né is wajah sé nafrat kī ki tum log Ammījān ké mankūħ Musalmān shauhar kī aulād nahīn ho.”
“Yah jhūŧh hai.”
“Yah ħaqīqat hai.” Taħannus Bhābhījān né Ħamīd Yūsuf sé bhī zyādah sakħt lahjé mein kahā, “Sab jānté hain ki Abbū, Muħammad Yūsuf, Vīr Vīréndr Group of Companies mein ék måmūlī sé mulāzim thé. Phir bhī Vīr Vīréndr Group of Companies ké Managing Director, Vīr Vīréndr Pratāp, né apnī tamām jāyédād Ammījān, Sabīħah Jalāl, ké naam kar dī.”
Ħamīd Yūsuf dūsrī taraf dékhné lagā.
Taħannus Bhābhījān muskurāīn,
“Tum batā sakté ho, Ħamīd Yūsuf, kyon kiyā Vīr Vīréndr Pratāp, né apnī tamām jāyédād Ammījān, Sabīħah Jalāl, ké naam?”
“Kyonki hum tīnon bhāī, Zubayr Yūsuf, Nadīm Yūsuf aur Ħamīd Yūsuf, main, hamāré Abbū, Muħammad Yūsuf, kī nahīn, Vīr Vīréndr Pratāp kī aulād hain?” Talkħ lahjé mein Ħamīd Yūsuf né savāl kiyā.
“Yah tum mujhsé poochh rahé ho?” Taħannus Bhābhījān tanz āméz andāz mein hansīn, “Agar aesā na hotā to tum tīnon bhāī, Zubayr Yūsuf, Nadīm Yūsuf aur Ħamīd Yūsuf, apnī Ammījān, Sabīħah Jalāl, sé nafrat kyon karté jabki Ammījān né tum logon ko bāqāyedah apné mankūħ Musalmān shauhar, Muħammad Yūsuf, kā naam dé kar Vīr Vīréndr Group of Companies kā naam bhī ‘Yūsuf Group of Companies’ kar diyā thā?”*
Ħamīd Yūsuf kuchh bhī nahīn bol sakā.
Yūsuf Manzil mein rahnā majbūrī thī Ħamīd Yūsuf kī.
Nadīm Yūsuf né saaf kahā thā ussé.
“Taħannus Bhābhījān par nazar rakhnā béħad zarūrī hai, Ħamīd. Hamārī béwaqūfiyon kī wajah sé Ammījān pahlé hī hamāré hāthon sé nikalkar Durgesh kī ho chukī hain.”
“Sirf Ammījān?” Ħamīd Yūsuf nihāyat hī ghazabnāk lahjé mein bolā, “Sirf Ammījān? Main kahtā hūn Ved Nagar kī taqrīban har Musalmān ħasīn åurat Durgesh sé chudvāné ké liyé Durgesh ké talvé chāŧtī rahtī hai. Yahān koī bhī Musalmān åurat Pākdāman nahīn rah saktī. Ék sađī machhlī hī tamām tālāb kī machhliyon ko sađā dālné ké liyé kāfī hotī hai. Yahān to mukammil tālāb hī sađī machhliyon sé bharā huā hai. Yahān to shāyad agar kħud Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah rza bhī tashrīf lé āyén to voh bhī Durgesh sé chudvāyé baghair hargiz nahīn rah pāyéngī.Allah Allah, kyā bémisāl Uncut Hindu Lund hai kāfir kā. Har bémisāl ħasīn Musalmān åurat Durgesh sé chudvānā koī abnormal baat hī nahīn samajhtī. Uské liyé yah ékdam normal baat hai. Kamāl hai! Allah målūm kaisā jādūgar hai yah kambakħt Durgesh. Maine aaj tak aesī koī bémisāl ħasīn Musalmān åurat nahīn dékhī jo Durgesh sé na chudvātī ho.””
“Ŧhīk kahā tumné. Daulat mein bahut tåqat hotī hai, Ħamīd Yūsuf.” Nadīm Yūsuf né kađvé lahjé mein kahā.*
Ħamīd Yūsuf né apné bađé bhāī kī jānib dékhā.
“Yah sirf daulat kā måmlah nahīn hai Bhāījān.”
“Daulat kā hī måmlah hai, Ħamīd Yūsuf. Daulat kā hī måmlah hai. Durgesh aaj tamām Kāynāt-e-kul kā sabsé zyādah daulatmand shakħs hai. Kyā tum is ħaqīqat sé inkār kar sakté ho?”
“Main kisī ħaqīqat sé inkār nahīn kar rahā, Bhāījān. Lékin sirf daulat hī sab kuchh nahīn hotī. Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī Durgesh sé shāyad unnīs hī hogī daulat mein. Shāyad voh aaj tamām Kāynāt-e-kul kī sabsé zyādah daulatmand åurat hai. Log to yahān tak kahté hain ki Durgesh ko tamām Kāynāt-e-kul kā sabsé zyādah daulatmand shakħs banāné mein Durgesh kī Musalmān åuraton kā sabsé zyādah hāth hai.”
“Main aesā nahīn māntā, Bhāījān.” Ħamīd Yūsuf né nihāyat hī sanjīdagī sé kahā.
Nadīm Yūsuf hansā.
“Main Taħannus Bhābhījān ko Ammījān kī daulat par hargiz qābiz nahīn honé dūngā.”
Ħamīd Yūsuf jaisé āsmān sé girā.
“To yah sach hai ki Taħannus Bhābhījān badchalan nahīn hain. Āp unhén badnām kar rahé hain?”
“Ħamīd Yūsuf!” Nadīm Yūsuf sakħt lahjé mein bolā, “Tum apné bađé bhāī sé guftgū kar rahé ho. Bhūlo mat.”
“Lånat hai āp par.” Ħamīd Yūsuf talkħ lahjé mein bolā, “Āp badnām kar rahé hain Bhābhījān ko? Unkī daulat par qābiz honé ké liyé? Sharm nahīn ātī āpko? Chullū bhar pānī mein dūbkar mar nahīn gayé āp yah sab karné sé pahlé?”
“Ħamīd Yūsuf, pāgal mat bano. Voh badmåsh åurat tumhén béwaqūf banā rahī hai. Voh Durgesh sé chudvātī hai aur…”
“Enough! Bahut ho chukā, Bhāījān. Ab main sab samajh chukā hūn. Zubayr Bhāījān aur āp donon milkar Taħannus Bhābhījān ko badnām kar rahé hain. Isliyé badnām kar rahé hain ki voh majbūr hokar apnī daulat āp donon ké ħawālé kar dén.”
“Main aesā nahīn honé dūngā, Bhāījān. Main hargiz aesā nahīn honé dūngā. Main utnā hargiz nahīn gir saktā jitnā āp donon gir chuké ho. Main us måsūm Panjvaqtah Namāzī buland kirdār Musalmān åurat kā sāth dūngā jo āp donon daulat ké bhūkhon kā pūrī bahādurī sé tanhā muqāblā kar rahī hai.”
“Tum pāgal ho gayé ho, Ħamīd Yūsuf.” Nadīm Yūsuf sakħt lahjé mein bolā, “Hosh mein āo.”*
Zubayr Yūsuf ék kāiyān hansī hansā.
“Smart. Very smart.”
“Jī?” Nadīm Yūsuf né ħairat sé apné bađé bhāī kī taraf dékhā.
“Ħamīd hum tīnon bhāiyon mein sabsé chhoŧā hai. Lékin voh hum tīnon mein sabsé zyādah samajhdār aur chālāk niklā.”
“Main samjhā nahīn, Bhāījān.”
“Rukħsānah ŧhīk kahtī thī, Nadīm.”
Nadīm Yūsuf burī taraħ bhađak kar bolā.
“Bhāījān, āpné phir us zalīl åurat kā naam liyā méré sāmné?”
“Baat ko samajhné kī koshish karo, Nadīm. Rukħsānah Salmān tumhārī bīwī hai.”
“Rukħsānah Salmān mérī bīwī hai?” Nadīm Yūsuf pāglon kī taraħ apné bađé bhāī, Zubayr Yūsuf par lāl pīlā hotā huā bolā, “Rukħsānah Salmān mérī bīwī hai? Phir mujhsé kyon nahīn chudvātī? Durgesh sé kyon chudvātī hai?”
“Durgesh sé sab chudvātī hain.” Zubayr Yūsuf mand mand muskurātā huā bolā.
“Chudvātī rahén, sab chudvātī rahén Durgesh sé. Jahannum mein jāyén ħarāmzādiyān. Mujhé kyā kisī pāgal kutté né kāŧā hai, jo main un sabkī fikr kartā rahūn? Voh sab mérī bīwiyān nahīn hain, Bhāījān. Lékin Rukħsānah Salmān mérī bīwī hai. Main yah hargiz bardāsht nahīn kar saktā ki mérī bīwī Durgesh sé chudvāyé.”
Nadīm Yūsuf kā chéhrā ghussé sé burī taraħ tamtamā rahā thā.
“Talāq dé do.” Zubayr Yūsuf ék kāiyān muskurāhaŧ ké sāth bolā.
“Talāq dé dūn? Talāq dé dūn? Voh mérī do béŧiyon kī Ammī ban chukī hai.”
“Dūsrī bīwī aa jāyégī.” Zubayr Yūsuf nihāyat hī pursukūn lahjé mein bolā, “Voh sambhāl légī tumhārī donon béŧiyon ko.”
“Aur iskī kyā guarantee hai ki talāq ké båd mérī béŧiyān méré paas hī rahéngī? Court unkī custody unkī Ammī ko nahīn dé dégā? Rukħsānah ék millionaire hai. Durgesh uskā vakīl hai. Har court mein aajkal vahī hotā hai, jo Durgesh chāhtā hai. Jabrā chodé talāq na léné dé.”*
Zubayr Yūsuf khilkhilākar hansā.
“Kahāwat yah hai ki Jabrā māré, roné na dé.”
“Voh non Hindu jabré hoté hain jo mārté hain aur roné nahīn dété. Hindu jabré chodté hain aur talāq nahīn léné dété. Isi wajah sé to banā thā Pakistan.”
“Taubah hai Nadīm Yūsuf. Kahān kī baat kahān lé jākar paŧakħ dété ho. Kis wajah sé banā thā Pakistan?” Zubayr Yūsuf phir hansné lagā.
“Musalmān åuratén Hinduon sé chudvātī thien. Jab Hindustan āzād honé lagā to samajhdār Musalmān ghabrāyé ki ab to ħukūmat bhī Hinduon kī ho jāyégī. Phir to Musalmān åuratén babbar shérniyān ban jāyéngī ki ‘Saiyān bhayé kotwāl ab dar kāhé kā’.”
“Lånat hai tum par.” ZubayrYūsuf hanstā huā bolā, “Kisī Pākistānī terrorist né sun liyā to sabsé pahlé tumhén golī sé uđāyégā phir kisī aur ko.”
“Main ħaqīqat bayān kar rahā hūn, Bhāījān.”
“Shut up. Bahut bakwās kar chuké. Ab kām kī baat suno.”
More from Durgesh:
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed at Bābarah Åālamgīr.
Bābarah Åālamgīr grimaced.
She couldn’t digest Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s comment.
“I don’t think so.” Bābarah Åālamgīr said unappreciatively.
“Durgesh fucked you in trance? Hahaha.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed once more, “And you claim to be a successful journalist.”
“Stop ridiculing me.” Bābarah Åālamgīr said angrily, “Only because you are utmost successful young Musalmān Beauty now, you don’t have implied authority to ridicule the other successful young Musalmān Beauties.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
Bābarah Åālamgīr didn’t know what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan did.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan knew why Durgesh was so faithful to mature Musalmān Beauties aged enough to be his Ammīs even.
“Durgesh learned his practical sex from mature Musalmān Beauties aged enough to be his Ammīs even.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled at Bābarah Åālamgīr, “It was immensely problematic for me to make him to make love to us teenagers, twenties and early thirties Musalmān Beauties. Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Réħānah Muħammad, Al Tawħīd, Rābiyah Altmash, Tajallī Jamāl Qurayshī, etcetera have trained Durgesh’s mind so much that Durgesh actually has an inherent obsession for them. He thinks whatever he is today in sex, he is due to Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Réħānah Muħammad, Al Tawħīd, Rābiyah Altmash, Tajallī Jamāl Qurayshī, etcetera.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr was awe stricken on this utmost secret revelation of my so utmost successful sexual life.”
“My Seven movements Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Durgesh Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ Sex Therapy and Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah Social Service, have actually made Durgesh available to us teenagers, twenties and early thirties Musalmān Beauties.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said gravely, “especially Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh and Sixty One Eighteen in Love. Otherwise it was quite impossible for you, Bābarah Åālamgīr, to be a live in relationship partner of Durgesh the greatest, even in this Dream City, Ved Nagar.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr was dumbfounded.*
The angry roar of screaming spectators filled the auditorium as they watched my opponent Musalmān Beauty caressed my nude Hindu buttocks patronizingly.
I had exploded ultimately into her tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
Nādirah Islām Saåīd was still smiling.
Her tight Musalmān Cunt was still holding my exploded Uncut Hindu Lund.
“No chance, Imām Muħammad Ħasan,” Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr smiled sympathetically, “Your Hindu stud has failed.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan was grave.
He didn’t say anything.
I fought to keep my Uncut Hindu Lund still still moving in out and in.
I succeeded in my attempts.
My Uncut Hindu Lund was still capable in fucking Nādirah Islām Saåīd.
But the fact was that I had exploded already.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was still fucking Sidrah Aħmad.
He hadn’t exploded into her.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was the winner, not me.
I pushed and squirmed, but the fact was the fact.
The ref dropped to the mat beside us, watching for the pin.
I knew I was in trouble.
My parents watched each other as they looked on.
“Get up, Durgesh!” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī shouted. Her soft little voice drowned out by the crowd.
As I fucked Nādirah Islām Saåīd, I saw Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī in the stands.
She seemed to be doing an angry fighting within herself, as she looked on.
Yet, I couldn’t help but notice how her big boobs wobbled beneath her thin costly sweater as she did this.
I smiled to myself for a moment.
“What a time for a guy to have Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī‘s boobs on the brain.” I thought.
It was true, eighteen year old I was obsessed with boobs and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī had the biggest rack of any Musalmān Beauty I knew.
Strangely, as I lay there, my Uncut Hindu Lund still burying deepest into Nādirah Islām Saåīd’s tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, I thought back on all the mornings that I sat at the breakfast table gawking.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī’s big braless Musalmān tits under her thin silk robe were the source of my many a morning hard-on.
I was suddenly jarred back into the present as the ref slapped the mat, announcing my defeat and Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s victory.
The crowd sighed in disappointment.
It was another lost sex match for me who wanted more than anything to be World Sex Champion.
Well, almost anything.
After the competition, I walked across the parking lot with my head still held high.
I fucked Nādirah Islām Saåīd longer than Shankar Mahāpralayankar fucked Sidrah Aħmad.
Sidrah Aħmad was jealous of Nādirah Islām Saåīd and Nādirah Islām Saåīd was still proud of me that she always opted for me.
Durgesh is the best.
Yet Shankar Mahāpralayankar has again lasted longer into Sidrah Aħmad.
Sidrah Aħmad herself admitted,
“Durgesh is really the best into our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunts, but Shankar Mahāpralayankar stays longer. It’s second time Shankar Mahāpralayankar defeated Durgesh. Isn’t it?”
Nādirah Islām Saåīd charged Sidrah Aħmad furiously.
“You always help that Hindu scoundrel in staying longer into you. You are jealous of me that Durgesh always prefers me on you.”
Sidrah Aħmad laughed.
“Durgesh is damn more ethical than Shankar Mahāpralayankar. Shankar Mahāpralayankar never minds our free sex, but Durgesh criticizes us, at least.”*
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī had her arm around me as we walked side by side.
“You’ll get Shankar Mahāpralayankar next time, son.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said.
The heels of Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī‘s sandals clicked against the payment, drawing my attention.
I was in love with Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī‘s everything.
I felt my Uncut Hindu Lund stiffen at the mere sight of her.
Even her feet were soft and small with cute squatty little toes that were always freshly painted.
Her high-heeled sandals consisted of a couple of tiny straps that crossed the foot, just above the toes.
There were no straps in the back, leaving her sexy arched heels on open display.
We stopped at the car and while Imām Muħammad Ħasan got in and unlocked the doors, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī stood facing me.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī put her hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently.
Even with her heels on, I was few inches taller.
“Hey.” She said softly.
I looked up into Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī‘s big brown eyes that seemed to gleam with love.
“Give me a hug, Hindu handsome.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī whispered.
It was like candy to my ears.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī moved forward and gave me a great big tit-squasher.
I let out a quivering sigh as I felt Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī‘s soft spongy Musalmān sacks flatten against my young Hindu chest.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī was no dummy.
She knew I was fascinated with her “little girls” as Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī liked to call them and that by crushing them against my Hindu chest as we embraced Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī would be helping to sooth the disappointing loss.
I said very little the rest of the evening.
I was thinking.
Is Sidrah Aħmad really helping Shankar Mahāpralayankar in defeating me?
Does she not digest my criticism of her wildest Hindu obsession?
Sidrah Aħmad believes every Hindu is better than a Musalmān for having sex with him.
Is she right?
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī does also believe in the same.
There are some other Musalmān Beauties too who too have the same faith.
But isn’t it communal and cruel too to reject one entire community for having sex with its mankind?
How these ravenous Musalmān Beauties can be correct?
I went straight to my room where I became absorbed into the world of Ashvinātam Sex.
Downstairs Imām Muħammad Ħasan was watching a ballgame.
Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī tidied up the kitchen as she spoke to her big sister on the phone.
“I don’t know, I feel so bad for Durgesh, Bājī, Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī. I mean, all Durgesh does is talk about wanting to be a World Sex Championion Competitor, but he hasn’t won one sex match so far this year.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī explained.
“Well, maybe he’s just not motivated enough, darling. I mean, the accomplishment of being World Sex Championion is long term. Maybe he needs some short term rewards to keep him motivated.” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī said.
“I could try that I suppose, but if he doesn’t involve in other things he probably won’t work for it.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī said.
“Is there anything else you think he’d be willing to work for?” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī asked.
“Well, he is a teenager. A hot bubble bath with a big breasted cheerleader might do the trick.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī giggled.
“Okay then, this is what you do. Tell me that if he wins his next Sex Match, you’ll take off your bra and show him your Musalmān tits.” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī said.
“Are you crazy? Allah, Bājī, Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī, he’s my son.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī giggled.
“Yes, and he’s also a hormonal teenaged Hindu boy who can’t take his eyes off of those big Musalmān boobs of yours. You told me so yourself.” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī laughed.
“Yes, I did and I fail to see how unclasping my bra in front of Durgesh is going to help remedy that obsession.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī answered.
“Allah! My God, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, you are such a prude. They’re just big Musalmān boobs. Do you want your Hindu son to win or not?” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī asked.
“Of course I want Durgesh to win.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī said angrily, “I don’t like Shankar Mahāpralayankar has won Durgesh again. That Hindu boy is criminal minded I say.”
“Then think about it, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī. Most Hindu boys of Durgesh’s age would crawl through a field of cactus to see a set of real Musalmān tits and if you don’t show him, then maybe someone else will.” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī said mischievously.
“No, you won’t. I can handle this situation thank you very much.” Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī said sternly.
“We’ll, then handle it little sister. You might be pleasantly surprised.” Imāmzādī Tawħīd Qāzī said.*
Kħālidah Naåīm picked up the telephone and said,
“Oh Hi, Bābarah Åālamgīr. Lunch today? Sure, where?”
The voice at the other end of the call said,
“Ashvinātam Restaurant in Ved Nagar at twelve-thirty.”
“I’ll be there. Allah Ħāfiz.”
Kħālidah Naåīm glanced at the digital clock setting on the nightstand.
She smiled she still had plenty of time for a little self-indulgence.
Kħālidah Naåīm opened the drawer to the nightstand next to her unmade bed.
She lifted the hardbound romance novel and placed it beside her on the bed.
Kħālidah Naåīm looked longingly at the cover art on the book.
It pictured a handsome, hard-bodied man embracing a Lady Doctor in a white uniform.
Kħālidah Naåīm lovingly traced her fingertips across the man’s face as Kħālidah Naåīm memorized its chiseled details.
Untying her robe Kħālidah Naåīm opened it.
Her nipples hardened in the cool morning air.
Hissing Kħālidah Naåīm tugged on each nipple in turn until Kħālidah Naåīm felt the familiar warmth deep in her belly begin to flood her nethers.
Kħālidah Naåīm hesitated, gazed at the hunk on the book cover then pulled out a pink plastic phallus and a tube of lube from the drawer.
Blushing, Kħālidah Naåīm knew her husband would be hurt if he knew Kħālidah Naåīm had resorted to mechanical devices to reinforce his flagging sexual prowess.
Kħālidah Naåīm shrugged, Kħālidah Naåīm had needs that required satisfaction, if Kħālidah Naåīm went too long without an orgasm Kħālidah Naåīm could be a real bitch.
Kħālidah Naåīm liberally applied lubricant to the slim 7-inch long pink shaft followed by the wide bulb-shaped head.
The enlarged head contained a powerful egg vibrator that focused on her G-spot.
What the hell else could Kħālidah Naåīm do when her husband was becoming more and more disinterested in having sex with her?
Well, her most sophisticated Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān lady friends even told Kħālidah Naåīm, Kħālidah Naåīm wasn’t only facing this problem, they were too suffering from the same impasse.
Zāhidah Aslam had gone even to the extent,
“Kħālidah Naåīm, I knew sooner or later, it had to happen.”
Kħālidah Naåīm was startled,
“Allah, why Zāhidah Aslam?”
“Our Musalmān mankind is becoming more and more religious nowadays.”
“Not only our Musalmān mankind, Zāhidah Aslam.” Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Réħānah Muħammad smiled at her other most sophisticated Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān lady friends, “nowadays, the entire mankind on the globe is bubbling with intense incurable continually increasing religious sentiments.”
“Allah, you are absolutely correct, Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Réħānah Muħammad.” Kħālidah Naåīm immediately agreed with her.
“Don’t you see,” Imāmzādī Sheikħzādī Réħānah Muħammad said, “almost entire globe is suddenly against corruption in their governments? Don’t you see, almost entire globe is suddenly against gang-rapes and rapes even? Why is it so? Due to this very intense incurable constant increase in religious sentiments of the entire mankind on entire globe, I say.”*
Imām Muħammad Ħasan couldn’t understand what had happened to me suddenly.
He was a badly flustered individual.
Not only was he curious as to why I should be interested in Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Islands, but Imām Muħammad Ħasan was anxious to make certain that he receive the excessive price that he had quoted over the mobile.
He could not understand while I was always against even the name of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, why suddenly I was so interested in buying ten thousand shares of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands.
He had offered his ten thousand shares for ten times amount they actually were worth of.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s anxiety was tempered by a very evident fear that some secret development concerning which he knew nothing was making the stock worth far more than Imām Muħammad Ħasan had dared to ask.
I put the certified cheque on Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s executive table.
“There you are Abbū Imām. A cheque payable to Imām Muħammad Ħasan, dated today, duly certified, in an amount of one thousand, thousand dollars. You please note that I have written on the back of the cheque that, this cheque is payment in full for your ten thousand shares of stock in the Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands. I have further written on the back of this cheque that you agree to arrange for me to attend the directors’ meeting this afternoon.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan was listening to me immensely intently.
Yet, nevertheless, he was absolutely unable to understand what I was actually after.
He knew me very well I would never purchase even a single share of even any Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, until its name isn’t changed.
I hated the immense vulgarity in the name.
Why the hell then I was suddenly interested in purchasing as much as ten thousand shares of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands, on ten times amount of what they were actually worth of?
I continued gravely, yet still quite respectfully,
“Abbū Imām, you will there, in directors’ meeting, announce that you have sold your stock of ten thousand shares to me, and give me an opportunity to address the meeting.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s suspicious eyes peered with the intensity of a man trying to look through a thick fog.
He pushed his head forward, as if by doing so he could see my face to better advantage, and could study my features.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan blinked his eyes gravely.
He had to admit to himself that I was too much deep for him still now, while I respected him very much as my father in law.
Since Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan insisted I should treat her Abbū Imām my father in law and Imām Muħammad Ħasan should treat me his son in law, that was the relationship prominent between Imām Muħammad Ħasan and me.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan seemed almost to be sniffing the air.
“You have the stock, Abbū Imām?” I asked gravely.
“Sure, my son. Absolutely.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said patiently.
“I’m prepared to endorse all the ten stock certificates.”
“There are five directors?”
“Will you,” I smiled, “tell me something about the temperaments and personalities of the various directors?”*
Satisfied that the vibrator was ready to use Kħālidah Naåīm began to prepare herself to receive it.
Kħālidah Naåīm began by warming up her erogenous zones with her own fingers.
With familiarity, her digits traced their way around her anatomy, mapping out her puffy pussy lips, pinpointing her clitoris and exploring her vagina.
It felt so good, Kħālidah Naåīm whimpered,
“Uh, uh, uh.”
Kħālidah Naåīm twisted the base of the vibrator engaging its lowest speed.
She allowed the head of the vibrator to travel the most responsive parts of body slowly, first buzzing her inner thighs then her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān labia.
Kħālidah Naåīm increased the speed of her toy and applied varied pressures to her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān clit.
Her arousal built.
Kħālidah Naåīm relished the powerful sensations surging through her body.
Kħālidah Naåīm panted,
“That’s it, that’s it,” and puffed breathily, “Oh, that’s it.”
Glancing at the man painted on the book cover with glassy eyes Kħālidah Naåīm slipped the enlarged tip of vibrator slowly inside her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Pussy.
After a moment, Kħālidah Naåīm simulated sexual intercourse by sliding the droning dildo up and down in her slick snatch pushing the limits of comfort.
Kħālidah Naåīm located her G-spot with the wide egg-shaped head of the toy and groaned.
Quickly, Kħālidah Naåīm twisted the base of the vibrator dialing up the intensity of the vibrations that gyrated all the way through her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān gash.
She diddled her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān clit with demonic endeavor until a toe-curling orgasm was delivered.
Her climax exploded in the pleasure center of her mind as her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Cunt contorted and contracted around the humming device still embedded within her.
Kħālidah Naåīm screamed with agonized release,
Imām Muħammad Ħasan smiled at me.
“The directors are personally known to you. Very harmonious, very broadminded. For the most part, our meetings are entirely without friction. I am quite sure, my son that, you will find no serious objection on the part of any director to carrying out any legitimate business proposition that is for the best interest of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands.”
I looked at Imām Muħammad Ħasan steadily for a few moments, then grinned.
“Well, of course,” Imām Muħammad Ħasan said, trying his best not to avert his eyes, “we occasionally do have differences of opinion, as your own board of directors in HVSI group of Companies too has naturally. Nevertheless, you know very well, being an ever most successful businessman, even more than me, that’s only normal. You know, these islands are part of Ved Nagar and we have Democracy here after all. I don’t think it’s necessary for me to remind you that we progress through the consideration of different opinions in Democracy.”
I smiled respectfully.
“Abbū Imām, I know you would never deceive me for your personal interest. Yet, we both are dedicated to our movements. Aren’t we?”
“Sure, yet our movements are not mutually against each other. We both are fighting to establish actual Democracy everywhere. Aren’t we?”
“I agree with you. But I am never as desperate in achieving my goal as you are.”
“Because Hindus were never as Uneducated/Under Educated, never as criminal/criminal minded, as the Pseudo Musalmīn are.”
“You go to the extreme extents even to achieve your goals. You have established Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Clubs successfully. You’ve successfully developed them to Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands even. Yet, you are quite against your own daughter, my wife, my live in relationship partner, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan that, she has vowed to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“I saw you sitting here alone,” she smiled at Åādilah Salāħuddīn, “I’m alone too. What’s more, I feel immensely lonely without my live in relationship partner. As it happens, I’m completely, absolutely, and entirely washed up with other men. I sat down and tried a cocktail, and three men smirked at me before I’d finished. How about letting me buy you a drink? No formality. If you don’t want my company, I won’t mind to find another suitable place for me.”
The orchestra ground out melodies with swinging rhythm.
A master lady of ceremonies radiated synthetic enthusiasm as she announced the numbers of a floorshow through a microphone.
Dazzling Musalmān waitresses, moving back and forth among tables, carefully followed instructions that food must not be brought too soon after cocktails.
Dvij Hindus and Bachhalyās strictly never took wine, neither the True Musalmīn that understood the HVSI Movement.
The cocktails were used by Traditional Hindus, Musalmān Beauties and Pseudo Musalmīn only.
Those who had drunk too much were being served watered drinks.
Those who seemed “sourpuss” were having a special visit from the head waitress with the virtues of the wine list extolled.
Åādilah Salāħuddīn felt a surge of relief.
It wasn’t a beef then after all.
She beckoned to the waitress.
“Another champagne cocktail?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked.
Åādilah Salāħuddīn nodded.
“Make it two.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said.
“Take this anyway.” Åādilah Salāħuddīn told the waitress, “It’s stale.”
Then she laughed at Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,
“I was brooding, worrying, too much to drink, I guess.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan digested the information.
It witnessed Åādilah Salāħuddīn’s extent of depression.
It was even more than evident now that Åādilah Salāħuddīn was fed up of her present life.
Her evolution to humanity from human animal was faster than her ever criminal, ever incompetent, Musalmān husband, Naåīmuddīn.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan once again felt proud of her own Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
Her Abbū’s evolution to humanity from human animal was even far faster.
Perhaps even faster than that of herself and Durgesh even.
Durgesh was still selfish for his own advancement, his own progress, his own further evolution.
He still sacrificed the benefits of humanity for his own survival.
So was Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself.
That’s why Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan loved Durgesh so much.
Only Durgesh was the perfect life partner to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.
Their thirty-two years age difference was senseless.
Both Durgesh and Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan were outright animals as for as their sexual behavior is concerned.
Her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, is also an outright animal as for as her own sexual behavior is concerned.
That’s why her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, couldn’t adjust with her far more evolved Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan.
She chose Durgesh instead.
Her Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, is an outright animal as for as her sexual behavior is concerned.
She needed a wilder animal Durgesh to satisfy her wild animal sexual needs.
Her far more evolved Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, couldn’t provide her that, because he couldn’t fall to the extent.
Durgesh, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Nafīsah Salmān, and all the Musalmān Beauties in Ved Nagar, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Islands, Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Worlds, Galaxies and Creations are still humanoid animals.
Her far more evolved Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan is perhaps evolved to an angel, a humanoid angel.*
It was a situation, for Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, that called for a little tact.
Åādilah Salāħuddīn couldn’t make any profitable connections sitting there with Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan at her table.
On the other hand, there was no harm in letting Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan buy a drink.
Åādilah Salāħuddīn looked at her watch,
“My husband is late,” she said.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I won’t detain you.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said gravely trying to look for another table for her.
“It’s all right. Sit down. We’ve a lot of time for that drink, nevertheless. He keeps me waiting lots of times. Damn him.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled benignly,
“Haven’t I met you somewhere before? Your face is familiar.”
Åādilah Salāħuddīn laughed.
“I don’t think so. Sorry, I’m unable to remember you.”
“I still think I saw you somewhere.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan insisted empathetically, “Oh, wait a minute. Weren’t you in an automobile accident? Yes, you were. I remember now. I remember seeing you in the car.”
“Did you see that smash?” Åādilah Salāħuddīn was somewhat surprised now.
“Yes. I was walking along the street. If your husband was the one that was driving that car, he’s worth waiting for.”
“Him?” Åādilah Salāħuddīn asked contemptuously, “He’s good looking, but he’s a sap. The other one was my husband. His name is Naåīmuddīn. He is worse. What do you do anyway, if you don’t mind that it isn’t my business?”
“Oh, it’s all right. I chairperson quite a group of companies. In fact, I own quite a number of stocks even in HVSI Group of Companies. Durgesh is my live in relationship partner too.”
Åādilah Salāħuddīn said wistfully,
“Allah, God, you are that big authority? Sorry, I couldn’t recognize you before. It’s an honor to share my table with you. Please forgive me if there was any unknown rudeness in my behavior. I’m honored. Thanks for the kindness shown to me. I’m a nobody in comparison to you. Allah, I can’t believe that I’m sharing my table with the great Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed.
“Thank you. Aren’t you exaggerating?”
“I’m sure I’m not. Allah, it must be nice to be in business for yourself and be independent. If I’d started in working and got some real business experience, I might have had something to look forward to, instead of this racket.”
“Racket?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked somewhat surprised now.
“Sure, I’m a hostess here.”
“In Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan asked incredulously.
“But you said you are a married woman?”
“Sure I am. So what?”
“Your husband knows that…”
“Knows that? Knows that? He is the one who brought me here.” Åādilah Salāħuddīn blurted out scornfully.
“Allah Allah.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan exclaimed, “I can’t believe it.”
“He hates Hindus openly but actually he dies to cash Hindus’ everlasting infinite sexual lust for us Musalmān Beauties.”
“And you still live with the bastard?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was indignant now.
“I haven’t any alternative.”
“Oh, I see.”
“No, you don’t. You can’t even if you want to. You can’t unless you’ve passed through it. It’s a lousy business.”
“Why don’t you leave it and get into something else?”
“How can I? My Musalmān husband, Naåīmuddīn, is a criminal. I didn’t know it when I married him, but I know today very well how ruthless the beast is. He is criminally resourceful very much. He has his criminal political connections too. I can’t compete with him.”
“There are lots of jobs open to a woman who has a pleasant personality and good looks. Moreover, there are countless resourceful Hindus now who are always ready to help helpless Musalmān Beauties against their criminal/criminal minded Musalmān mankind. They have a life mission to obliterate crime and evil from entire human society.”
“If we Musalmān Beauties agree to join their bed.” Åādilah Salāħuddīn commented bitterly.
“Certainly not, if you don’t want to.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said strongly opposing Åādilah Salāħuddīn.
“I can’t believe you.”
“HVSI Movement is full of such Hindus. You can reach them anywhere.”
“And they wouldn’t be interested in sex with me ever?” Åādilah Salāħuddīn asked Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan incredulously.
“Hey, you still want to be loyal to your bastard Musalmān husband, Naåīmuddīn?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself asked Åādilah Salāħuddīn incredulously too.
“Certainly not.” Åādilah Salāħuddīn said contemptuously.
“Do you want to lead a life of celibacy?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled.
“Life of celibacy?” Åādilah Salāħuddīn smiled shrewdly, “I? Never. I can’t even imagine it. On the contrary, I need quite wild animal sex. Naåīmuddīn could never satisfy me sexually.”
“I see.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled shrewdly too, “What about the utmost sexual beast Durgesh himself?”
“He isn’t available to me.” Åādilah Salāħuddīn said bitterly.
“Nonsense, Durgesh is my live in relationship partner. I know him more than you do. Durgesh is available to every Musalmān Beauty if she is interested in Durgesh sexually.”
Åādilah Salāħuddīn laughed.
“Every one of us Musalmān Beauties today is interested in Durgesh sexually, I think.” Åādilah Salāħuddīn said bitterly, “I know so many of them who are dying to have sex with your Durgesh. Yet, Durgesh isn’t available to them because he thinks having sex with them would not be ethical.”*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched Åādilah Salāħuddīn scrutinizing her.
“Yes. You are right in the matter. Durgesh is more ethical than he loves to make love to us Musalmān Beauties.”
Åādilah Salāħuddīn smiled bitterly.
“There you are.”
“Durgesh hates to make love to us Musalmān Beauties if we are the wives, sisters and/or daughters of his Musalmān friends, wives or live in relationship partners. He also hates to make love to us Musalmān Beauties if there is a noticeable age difference between him and us. Damn him. The ever best Hindu sexual beast has his own morals.”
Åādilah Salāħuddīn laughed bitterly.
“And our ever liar ever incompetent ever impotent Musalmān mankind says Durgesh and other Hindus are immorally after us Musalmān Beauties.”
“Our ever liar ever incompetent ever impotent Musalmān mankind doesn’t want us Musalmān Beauties to get satisfied sexually ever.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said scornfully, “That’s why they have resorted to honor killings of us Musalmān Beauties who resort to Hindus.”
“Thanks Allah, thanks God that Shankar Mahāpralayankar has too resorted to illegal means even to punish such Musalmān criminals, the so called honor killers.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled shrewdly.
“There are some capable organizations of us Musalmān Beauties, some immensely capable movements of us that help Shankar Mahāpralayankar and his followers to protect them from so called legal conspiracies.”
“Yes,” Åādilah Salāħuddīn said, “I’ve also heard of them, but…”
“Are you interested in joining any of them?”
“Well,” Åādilah Salāħuddīn hesitated somewhat.
“You can get Durgesh for yourself even,” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan watched Åādilah Salāħuddīn smartly, “if you really want to.”
“Not possible,” Åādilah Salāħuddīn said sharply, “Durgesh is my father in law.”
“Real father in law?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your Musalmān husband, Naåīmuddīn, is a real son of Durgesh?”
“Certainly not, but what the hell difference does it make.”
“Lot of difference.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled cunningly, “It makes all the difference in the Multiverse we Musalmān Beauties need. Can’t you see? I am not Durgesh’s real stepdaughter. My Ammī, Nafīsah Salmān, never married Durgesh. She is only a live in relationship partner of Durgesh. Durgesh claimed I was his stepdaughter. I never surrendered to his erroneous idea. I deliberately seduced him and today I’m Durgesh’s one of the most famous live in relationship partners. I think perhaps actually I’m Durgesh’s actual wife today.”
Åādilah Salāħuddīn watched Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan dumbfounded and awe stricken altogether.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The telephone rang.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan shifted her nude legs on my nude shoulders, raised her glorious young Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks, swallowed my Uncut Hindu Lund entirely up to my balls into her young ravenous Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, and picked up the receiver.
“Hello,” she smiled nicely fucked by me until her heart’s content.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan didn’t know how ravenous she was.
Now, Durgesh is fucking her nonstop in this body.
It was Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Antarvyom, Durgesh Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Interspace that is.
Then, shielding the mouthpiece with her hand, she smiled at me.
“This is he on the phone now. Al Åbbās Al Saåīd. Says he sent his daughter, Al Nādirah Al Åbbās, to explain matters, and he’d like to talk with you personally.”
I nodded acquiescence to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, took the receiver from her, and said.
“Yes, Durgesh speaking.”
I heard a thin, high-pitched voice saying in a crisp, meticulous accuracy of enunciation.
“Mr. Durgesh, this is Al Åbbās Al Saåīd. If you remember we met on a ship when you were in your Honeymoon with your then latest young live in relationship partner, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd.”
“Oh, yes, sure,” I said with enthusiasm, “How do you do Mr. Al Åbbās Al Saåīd? And how’s your excellent exquisite beautiful daughter, Al Nādirah Al Åbbās?”
“You do certainly have some magic, on young Musalmān Beauties I mean.”
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“My daughter, Al Nādirah Al Åbbās, is constantly trying to convince me now that you are the ever best husband for her, I mean ever best live in relationship partner.”
“Sir, you are certainly kidding me?” I laughed.
“Oh no, my boy, never. I’m not as a damn fool as to kid you ever. You have to succumb to my daughter’s wishes, I’m afraid.”
“Eīshān Eīshān shammā shamīshān!”
“That’s right. Al Nādirah Al Åbbās is incurably in love with you. I’m afraid you have to oblige her.”
“But sir, you know I’m sixty three and your daughter is only twenty eight, so…”
“Love doesn’t see any age difference, my boy. Love doesn’t see any age difference. You must have anticipated it already when on that grand ship, your then latest live in relationship partner, Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd, complained to me that Al Nādirah Al Åbbās is causing trouble in her honeymoon with you.”*
I smiled cunningly.
“Well, your daughter requested us to join in our honeymoon. Al Waħīdah Al Tawħīd consented out of courtesy. How the hell could I refuse?”
Al Åbbās Al Saåīd laughed patronizingly.
“That’s the blunder you both had done. I’m surprised how the hell both of you forgot−
Once with Durgesh,
all the rest is trash.’−
I’m sorry, my boy. You provided the ever-best sex to my daughter. And now you have to provide it to her forever.”*
I was sated and content.
Moreover, it appeared that, they were also satiated and contents themselves.
Zubaydah Bābar was lying there trying to catch her breath and regain control of her muscles.
Nishāt Nazli was on her side.
She was closely watching the two of us, gently running her hand, over my chest and belly.
Zubaydah Bābar had a contented look on her awfully stunning immensely pretty, immensely smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Musalmān face and a dreamy look in her eyes.
I turned to her.
“How about you? Did you enjoy yourself?”
Zubaydah Bābar smiled and instead of answering, bent her head down.
Zubaydah Bābar took my somewhat deflated Uncut Hindu Cock into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān mouth and gently sucked me clean, removing the remnants of her own cum and her friends’ along with mine that, had clung to me.
When Zubaydah Bābar finished cleaning me, she moved up and kissed me.
Only then did she answer.
“I enjoyed it so much that I will be your sex slave for life. If you ever want anything sexual, you just take me any way you want. In my mouth, in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot, with my hand, my Musalmān tits, or even in my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān ass. It’s all yours, forever, Durgesh darling! Méré Hindu Piyā! Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt! Hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam! Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! I never even heard of such a control any man can have ever.”
Nishāt Nazli heard her and giggled.
“That is coming from one of the most domineering women around and also from one who never let anybody near her extremely beautiful, ever sacred, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān asshole in her life. It must have been good.”
Zubaydah Bābar smiled and defended herself,
“I’m not domineering, we just never did it right. For the first time in my life I got fucked the way you’re supposed to.”
“I can’t argue with that.” Nishāt Nazli answered. “However, I admit, I have never felt so well fucked in my life. How the hell did Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās get so lucky as to be able to lay claim to Durgesh?”
“Just be glad. She’s willing to share.”
“Tell me Durgesh darling,” Nishāt Nazli smiled, “does Bābarah Åālamgīr know what a superb, what a grand lay her Hindu old man is?”
I heard the probing behind the question.
“Not unless Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās told her.” I answered. “She’s Jamīlah Aurangzeb’s daughter, Bābarah Åālamgīr, Eīshānāý Param Brahmñé Paramātmané. I would have a hard time doing that.”
Zubaydah Bābar picked up the thread.
“But she is such a hottie, how could you resist.”
“I’ll admit that at times it is hard, but she’s still Jamīlah Aurangzeb’s daughter, Bābarah Åālamgīr. Yet you’re right she is a hottie. If she weren’t Jamīlah Aurangzeb’s daughter, Bābarah Åālamgīr, I would not hesitate even a moment to bed her.”
The three of us lay in bed talking, cuddling, and fondling each other for a while before I looked at the clock.
“Hell, it’s after 4:00 I wonder where Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās and Bābarah Åālamgīr are. We expected them to be home after lunch. Come on let’s get up and get the cum washed off ourselves.”
The two Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls, Zubaydah Bābar and Nishāt Nazli, groaned.
“We don’t want to get up we want to lay here with you, Durgesh darling! Méré Hindu Piyā! Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt! Hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam! Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!” Zubaydah Bābar requested.
“Ok I’ll tell you what; I’ll wash your back for you.” Nishāt Nazli offered.
“What about my front?” I asked with a grin.
“Only, if you’re a good Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls-fucker Hindu.” Nishāt Nazli winked at me, “Promise you’d never say ‘no’ to any twenty eight Musalmān Beauty.”
“That’s not possible.” Zubaydah Bābar laughed teasing me, “Durgesh doesn’t enjoy the young Musalmān Beauties not of his own age, optimum.”
I slapped Zubaydah Bābar on her nude Musalmān buttocks playfully.
“Allah! Oops!” Zubaydah Bābar protested in mock.
Zubaydah Bābar exclaimed as she jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom.
The three of us crowded in the shower.
The hot water ran over us and true to her word, Nishāt Nazli washed down Zubaydah Bābar with soft loving strokes.
I covered their nude Musalmān bodies in rich lather and then Nishāt Nazli rinsed them off.
Before we turned the water off, the Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls took the soap from me and returned the favor, paying special attention to my Uncut Hindu Cock and balls.
It was my Uncut Hindu Cock.
It was once again hard and at attention.
Neither of the Panjvaqtah Namāzī, extremely beautiful Musalmān girls could resist.
In addition, as they finished washing me, Zubaydah Bābar and Nishāt Nazli, both got on their knees.
They took turns sucking my Uncut Hindu Lund into their extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouths and doing their best to give me a superior blowjob.
After a long time, they finally gave up getting a load of my Hindu cum out of me.
“I’ve had so much sex today. You two have just worked the last of it out of me earlier. I want to enjoy some rest now. It’ll be a while before I would want to make it more.”
They both were disappointed, but accepted the compliment that they had worn me out earlier and used me up.
Zubaydah Bābar and Nishāt Nazli, both strutted out of the bathroom satisfied that they had left nothing for anybody else at least for a while.
I finished in the bathroom, pulled on a pair of shorts and a shirt, and headed for the kitchen.
It was getting late and I wanted to get something out for dinner for the Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls.
I settled on some chicken breast I had in the freezer and chuckled at the label on the package the Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls had wrapped from what I had bought.
“Chicken Musalmān tits – 5” on one line and underneath it “2 ½ babes”.
That had to be Bābarah Åālamgīr‘s sense of humor.
Just about then, I heard the Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls come in.*
Al Åbbās Al Saåīd smiled.
“I have given my address to your nowadays most beloved young Musalmān live in relationship partner, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. I presume she has recorded it. Apparently, a murder was committed, in the flat below mine, sometime last night. The place is crawling with police. For certain reasons I can’t explain on the phone, I want to talk with an attorney. As I had already to call you in connection with my daughter, Al Nādirah Al Åbbās, I now need you for this another matter more. I’ve been thinking about it for several days. I think now it’d be better if I get it disposed of now before the police start messing into my private affairs unnecessarily. Can you be kind enough to come out here immediately? I am confined to a wheelchair. Consequently, it’d be a great trouble to me to come to you instead.”
“Who is murdered?”
“I don’t know, neither it makes any difference to me who the hell the victim was. The identity of the murdered person is highly immaterial except as it will interfere with what I have to do.”
I decided to conduct a psychological experiment.
“Do you think you’ll be suspected of complicity, involvement, in the murder?”
Al Åbbās Al Saåīd’s close-clipped accents said scornfully.
“Hell, of course.”
“Then why all the hurry about seeing me?”
“It’s a matter entirely different, my dear son in law.” Al Åbbās Al Saåīd laughed, “I told you already I can’t explain it in the damned phone. Come here and let me feel safe in discussing it with you. It’s as important as I’m willing to pay you any highest fee within reason, despite the fact that you are my son in law now. I want you here in person. Your new young live in relationship partner, my daughter, Al Nādirah Al Åbbās, is already on the way to bring you here.”
“Okay, as soon as Al Nādirah Al Åbbās gets here I’ll be right out.”
Al Nādirah Al Åbbās reached there even before I could put the receiver back on the cradle.*
Bābarah Åālamgīr called up the steps.
“We’re home, be up in a minute.”
A few minutes later Bābarah Åālamgīr and Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās topped the steps.
Both ran to me and embraced me in a hug.
“Well, it looks like I was missed. It’s good to see you both too.” I laughed.
“Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!, I’m so excited. Can Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās and I talk to you for a few minutes? We’ll get some drinks and sit on the deck.” Bābarah Åālamgīr asked.
“Sure, but what’s the occasion?”
“Let’s go outside first and get comfortable.” Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās offered.
Each of them grabbed a drink, went, and sat outside at the patio table.
“Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!, we didn’t go to see Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās‘s aunt today.” Bābarah Åālamgīr admitted. “We went for Nasīm Muåāwiyah’s job interview.”
“Oh, and by your mood when you got home I guess things went well.”
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās bubbled,
“Things went great. But we wanted to talk to you. We want to stay here with you. If we can that is?”
Bābarah Åālamgīr cut in right away.
“As boarders, we don’t want to be moochers we want to pay our own way.”
“If we went together we could afford a place for the two of us to share but, since you’re already here and we all seem to get along Ok, it would be cheaper for us to stay here and pay you. Then if it doesn’t work out we could still find a place to rent later.” Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās interjected.
“We know it’s a surprise and sudden and all but we didn’t want to say anything until we had the job.” Bābarah Åālamgīr added.
“Well, it’s not as much of a surprise as you might think.” I admitted. “I intentionally arranged the paper so the Qāid-e-Åāzam University Islamabad article was on top. Then I noticed the section was missing and I put two and two together. I would love to have the two of you stay here with me. I obviously have lots of room, so even when we get on each other’s nerves, we can have plenty of space for us. As far as boarders go, if we just work out something with the food and the telephone bill then I’ll be happy.”
Both Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls stared at me.
“You mean you knew all along that we were going for job here? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You never mentioned it. Therefore, I figured you did not want me to know. So I minded my own business.” I offered.
Bābarah Åālamgīr got up and kissed me on my lips, not as a stepdaughter would, as a loving woman would instead.
She grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis too, and squeezed it significantly.
“Thanks Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! I love you. We have to go to orientation next week and find out where we will be, like what grades we will teach and all. For now we don’t know much except we will start after Labor Day.”
“Ok, but just remember honey that if you want something in particular, I do know people here. Maybe I can help.” I offered. “Also your Ammī is not going to be happy. Feel free to blame it on me. She’ll assume I lured you away anyway.” I smiled at her.
“I’m not looking forward to telling her and I may just take you up on that.” Bābarah Åālamgīr smiled and headed into the house, leaving me alone with Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās.
It was prearranged and I knew it.
We had to talk and she was hesitant.
“I wanted to talk to you alone. That’s why Bābarah Åālamgīr left. About us, I mean about what is going to happen with us. I mean living here together. I mean…” Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās stumbled.
“I picked it up for her.”Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās, do you have a working crystal ball, or a machine that looks into the future or something?” I paused as she shook her head, “Neither do I. I know where you’re trying to go with this and what you’re trying to say. For now, I enjoy you being here and I enjoy having you in my bed. I really don’t see that changing anytime soon. Despite my reputation, I am not a love’em and leave’em type of guy. My biggest trouble is that you’ll get tired of hanging around with an old Hindu man and meet some young stud and dump me.”
She smiled at me.
“I don’t think any of those young studs could hold a candle to you.”
I smiled back.
“Thank you. Yet as I said for now we just see how it goes. I am very quickly growing very fond of you. Yet for me, to sit here and tell you that I am in love with you and you’re the one and only, I’m sorry I can’t do that, not yet at least. But even if things don’t work out and you don’t want to share my bed then fine, we have plenty of bedrooms here and I will always care about you and you’ll always be Bābarah Åālamgīr‘s friend and that means a lot. Now does that cover all the things you wanted to talk about?”
“Pretty much,” Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās smiled, “except how were Nishāt Nazli and Zubaydah Bābar today?” She smiled with a leer. “Did they attack you and rape you?”
“I didn’t give them a chance. I attacked them myself first. I think I wore them out.” I offered.
Now Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās laughed,
“That’s why they were asleep when we got home then. But were they good, I mean, better than me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girl. You are, and I am not exaggerating, one of the best lovers I have ever had. That is probably because everything is new to you and you enjoy it so much. But making love to you is, really great.”
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās beamed with pride and satisfaction as she got out of her chair and sat on my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and planting a tender kiss on my lips.
“Thanks, even though I know you’re exaggerating to make me feel better.”
“Well I’m not exaggerating. But the fact is that one session with you is more satisfying than both of them. Not that it wasn’t fun. Mind you I won’t lie and Yeah I’d probably do it again but. I’d rather have you.”
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās kissed me hard and passionately.
Then pulling back asked,
“Have you thought anymore about what I said last night about Bābarah Åālamgīr?”
I paused then answered.
“Yes, I have. Moreover, it’s a decision I will make in my own time and when I’m ready. Until now, I loved Bābarah Åālamgīr as my own daughter, yaar. Why don’t you understand? It’s not easy to change my view so fast and accept Bābarah Åālamgīr as a replacement wife to her Ammī.”
“But Bābarah Åālamgīr is NOT your daughter.” Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās shouted furiously, “And she is not responsible for what you thought of her. How is she? Why can’t she get the best man available even to her friends too?”
“Give me more time, please!”
“Bābarah Åālamgīr would replace your wife, her Ammī, Jamīlah Aurangzeb. And that is final.”
I sighed helplessly.
“Now, please stop it.”
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās could tell by my tone and demeanor that it was not a topic open to discussion right now.
“Ok, I didn’t mean to interfere. I just love you both and want you both to be happy.”
“I know. No harm done.” and I kissed Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās on her quivering crimson Musalmān lips. “When are you going to tell your Ammī and Abbū?”
“My Abbū won’t care but I’ll call him eventually. I was going to call my Ammī tonight.” Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās smiled to normalize the environment.
“Well why don’t you go call her now? Use my office if you want privacy.” I offered.
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās agreed and left to make her call.
Bābarah Åālamgīr must have been lurking not too far away, because as soon as Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās left Bābarah Åālamgīr walked back in.
“Well, how did it go?” she asked.
“Good, I think. I just told her the truth. We’ll see how things go. But for now she is welcome and wanted in my bed.” I answered.
“She really likes you Durgesh. She was so excited about staying and scared that you wouldn’t want her at the same time. I think she’s falling in love with you.” Bābarah Åālamgīr smiled.
“I think you’re right, and I’m getting real used to having her around. But I’ve not had the greatest luck with relationships in my life so we’ll take it slow and easy.” I told her.
Bābarah Åālamgīr moved to me and sat on my lap.
With a hug, she told me,
“I love you Durgesh darling! Méré Hindu Piyā! Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt! Hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam! Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! and I think it’ll work out fine. You just worry too much. I’m glad Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās makes you happy. I can see she does and I have never known her to be so upbeat and bubbly in the four years I have known her. You’re good for each other.”
“Ok Miss Matchmaker. Now I guess we have to find somebody for you.” I teased.
“No, if you still want to pretend that you don’t understand I’ve already found my man, right now I don’t want anybody. I have a new life, new job, new home and I have my Durgesh back.” Bābarah Åālamgīr sighed as she hugged me tighter.
I ran my hands down her back.
“Why don’t you go call your Ammī and get that over with? If she wants to scream at me I’ll talk to her.”
“Ok but you know I was really looking for a way not too.” Bābarah Åālamgīr laughed.
“Well, I think Jamīlah Aurangzeb would catch on if you didn’t come home for a couple of weeks.” I laughed too.
Both the Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls went and made their respective phone calls.
In some ways, Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās’s was easier although probably more emotionally draining.
Her Ammī claimed to be happy for her and glad she found a job but disappointed it was so far from home.
She spoke to her stepfather who only wanted to know when she was going to get her shit out so he could turn the room into a den.
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās promised him it would be soon.
It was his rejection of her that hurt her.
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās had always tried to be a good daughter to him, respected him and even loved him.
But he had always treated her like a fifth wheel.
He expressly rejected her attempts at being a family.
He was good to her Ammī but unhappy about the baggage that went with the Live in relationship.
Now he was plain happy that Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās was gone.
It was that rejection that hurt Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās.
Bābarah Åālamgīr called her Ammī and as I had predicted she accused me of stealing her daughter and warned her about my sinful ways.
In addition, how Bābarah Åālamgīr could not depend on me and on and on.
It was tiring to Bābarah Åālamgīr.
She had heard it for four years and had begun to form her own opinion of why our Live in relationship broke up.
Besides, her Ammī had returned to her Abbū, Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr.
Maulānā Aurangzeb Åālamgīr was a Qur’an thumper and he was quickly converting her Ammī once more into a communal Musalmān woman.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was just as glad that she would not have to listen to the sermons.
But she let her Ammī rant on and then told her she would be up for the rest of her things soon.
I did talk to my ex-wife, Jamīlah Aurangzeb.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb did accuse me of all kinds of things.
But after four years of divorce and 20 years of Live in relationship I was immune to it.
I just sat with a glass of juice and let her scream for half an hour, teasing Jamīlah Aurangzeb now and then impishly, and enjoying it very much.
Then I hung up.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was laughing.
She kissed me again on my lips, squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund and thanked me for pissing her Ammī off.
After talking to both Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls about their respective conversations I decided it would be best to get it over with and get them moved in.
Neither Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girl wanted to give up a couple of days of vacation time.
I pointed out we would have the rest of the summer and that Nishāt Nazli and Zubaydah Bābar would keep me company.
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās remarked that she was afraid of that.
When Zubaydah Bābar overheard it, she told Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās not to worry.
I wore the two of them out in one afternoon and they would probably spend the time hiding from my Hindu monster and me.
That brought a laugh all around.
That night we sat, planned, and talked.
We all went to bed fairly early.
I could sense Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās’s melancholy mood as I got into bed.
I drew up beside her and snuggled close.
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās clung to me for the emotional warmth.
We lay together for a while just touching and then I told her,
“I’m glad you’re going to stay. I was going to ask you to spend the summer at least.”
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās looked at me in the darkness,
“I didn’t know that, or that you felt that way.”
“Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās, I don’t know what Bābarah Åālamgīr told you about her Ammī and me. In fairness, I never told Bābarah Åālamgīr a lot of it. I just didn’t want her to be caught in the middle. But I loved her Ammī when we got living in Live in relationship and as things went on I suffered one disappointment after another until she was so emotionally cold toward me I gave up. It hurt me a lot. Therefore, I guess I am not going to allow myself to get hurt again. I care for you a lot and I can’t describe how glad I am to have a chance to let this develop into something nice. You just have to give me lots of time and let me go slow.”
It was more than I had bared my soul to anyone in many years and Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās sensed the truth behind the words and the pain.
She pulled me close and held me and while she did, she felt warmth from me.
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās felt it spread across her extremely striking Panjvaqtah Namāzī female Musalmān body.
She also felt me relax in her embrace in a way she never had before, as if I were surrendering.
While we had had sex a lot and even made love in a guarded way, tonight she offered herself to me again, not her extremely striking Panjvaqtah Namāzī female Musalmān body but herself and I accepted and opened myself a little bit so she could see in and see the loneliness.
Then Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās made love to me like never before.
Slowly and comfortably, Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās took me and it lasted hours until we both fell asleep exhausted.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed apologetically and added.
“Sorry, Dūlhā Bhāī. Even while you are the Chairman of HVSI Group of Companies, and you are a multi zillionaire, my wife Taufīq Fātimah and my friend, Bābarah Åālamgīr, both wanted to be present here. Bābarah Åālamgīr is interested in…”
“My Uncut Hindu Lund into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.” I said curtly.
“Well,” Muħammad bin Qāsim hesitated somewhat, “she is already living with you with her lady friends even, so I thought…”
“You blame me usually that I am a communal Hindu. To satisfy my communal Hindu lust, I fuck the horniest extremely lovely Musalmān Beauties. You never believed it was exactly otherwise. Now, watch yourself. Bābarah Åālamgīr and your own wife, Taufīq Fātimah, both are using you to fuck me.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim was dumbfounded.*
Taufīq Fātimah laughed.
“Bābarah Åālamgīr, I had warned you. Didn’t I?”
Bābarah Åālamgīr was startled.
“Sorry, Taufīq Fātimah. I couldn’t believe Durgesh didn’t fuck even you.”
“Well,” Taufīq Fātimah smiled, “Durgesh exactly never refused to fuck me. But he wants me to plead with him for it.”
“Nonsense.” I said.
Yet I didn’t tell him that Bābarah Åālamgīr was actually my witness and I understood it very well that Taufīq Fātimah was Muħammad bin Qāsim’s witness actually.
Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah and Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah wanted to be present themselves but I advised them not to do so.
“I suggest everyone to come to the point.” Bābarah Åālamgīr said, “Even if us Musalmān Beauties’ Hindu Piyā is right, he hasn’t come here to fuck us.”
“That’s right.” Muħammad bin Qāsim grabbed the opportunity.
However, he was gritting his teeth actually that Bābarah Åālamgīr and Taufīq Fātimah both were using him as a stepladder to fuck me.
It meant his Hindu Jījū’s claim was correct irrefutably.
It was really exactly otherwise than he claimed until now.
Durgesh wasn’t fucking Musalmān Beauties initially, Musalmān Beauties were fucking Durgesh actually.
How mistaken he was about the morals of the horny Musalmān Beauties even.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was the daughter of Jamīlah Aurangzeb, Durgesh’s live in relationship partner.
Durgesh thought Bābarah Åālamgīr was thus his stepdaughter somewhat.
He refused to fuck Bābarah Åālamgīr.
But Bābarah Åālamgīr wanted Durgesh herself.
She never accepted Durgesh’s refusal.
She is still trying to convince Durgesh that she is the perfect wife for him even while Durgesh is sixty three and Bābarah Åālamgīr is twenty nine only.
Taufīq Fātimah has married him on a condition that he would produce a porn movie costarring Durgesh and Taufīq Fātimah, Muħammad bin Qāsim’s own wife.
Moreover, his own Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, will direct it.
“Maybe I should say no just so I could watch.”
But even as I said it, I moved around to view the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot offered to me.
“Come on, Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt; hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! Just do her a little. Make her cum then save the rest for later.” Bābarah Åālamgīr offered and reached out.
Moreover, to my surprise, Bābarah Åālamgīr grasped my Uncut Hindu Cock boldly and pulled it toward her friend’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.
I had little choice but to follow and soon found myself behind my new Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriend with Jamīlah Aurangzeb’s daughter, Bābarah Åālamgīr, guiding my Uncut Hindu Prick into her.
I slid in easily and Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās sighed as I hit the bottom.
Bābarah Åālamgīr had released me but drew her hand away wet with Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās’s juices and as she brought her hand to her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth, she licked it clean.
I watched the sight and started to work my Uncut Hindu Cock in and out of the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān hole in front of me.
Bābarah Åālamgīr never moved away.
Now being bolder more and more, Bābarah Åālamgīr stayed right next to us, running her hands down her friend’s body and my body, occasionally around her front, to slide across a Musalmān tit or down between us, to touch my Uncut Hindu Cock on the backstroke.
‘Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! This is incredible.’ I thought. ‘Here I am fucking a 29 year old Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Beauty and Jamīlah Aurangzeb’s daughter, Bābarah Åālamgīr, is watching and helping us. So Hot! Isn’t it?’
I felt Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās tighten up and clamp down on me as she came.
Then realizing how close I was to my own orgasm, I called out,
“I’m gonna cum!”
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās immediately pulled herself off me and called out,
“In my mouth this time, please Durgesh darling! Méré Hindu Piyā! Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt! Hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam! Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!”
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās dropped her quivering crimson Musalmān lips over my Uncut Hindu Cock and started to suck.
The little bit of pressure was all I needed.
I shot my wad into her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth.
As I finished Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās slid off me leaving a little string of cum running from her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth to my Uncut Hindu Prick.
She looked at Bābarah Åālamgīr, leaned over and kissed her in a passionate swapping of my Hindu cum.
Then they broke the kiss and both swallowed my Hindu cum greedily.
The sight nearly got me hard again.
The Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls giggled and kissed again before jumping out of bed.
“I’ll use the shower downstairs. I need to get dressed today and all my clothes are down there.”
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās skipped out of the room.
Bābarah Åālamgīr leaned over and kissed me, smiled at me and she too walked out of the room.*
I looked at Muħammad bin Qāsim.
What a damn fool he was.
He was so obsessed with the extraordinary Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān beauty of a Hollywood star that he even consented to produce her porn movie with me.
He even convinced his own father, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, to direct the bloody porn movie.
To what extent Pseudo Islam had brought down a Musalmān husband and a Musalmān father in law.
Eīshān Eīshān shammā shamīshān!
“All right, what’s your proposition, my dear Sālé, Muħammad bin Qāsim?” I asked.
I was careful not to smirk, however.
“Well,” feeling somewhat awkward, Muħammad bin Qāsim managed to say, “Jījū, Dūlhā Bhāī, of course, we don’t want to stand in the way and…”
“Never mind the preliminaries.” I smiled gallantly, “Bābarah Åālamgīr, Taufīq Fātimah, you and I, all of us must drop all the diplomatic approach among us. We know each other very well. Bābarah Åālamgīr is my live in relationship partner, Jamīlah Aurangzeb’s daughter by her previous marriage. I’m feeling somewhat awkward to have sex with her. Yet she is adamant to win her live in relationship with me. She has managed to swallow my Hindu Vīrý even using her friend Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās. Bābarah Åālamgīr isn’t interested in business as much as she is interested in her permanent live in relationship with me, replacing her Ammī, Jamīlah Aurangzeb.”
“That’s right,” Bābarah Åālamgīr smiled boldly.
Muħammad bin Qāsim was startled.
Or, at least, he acted to be.
“Bābarah Åālamgīr, you said you need Durgesh to establish your own media empire as HVSI has successfully done globally even.” Muħammad bin Qāsim looked at Bābarah Åālamgīr quite surprised.
“Sure,” she smiled, “my Abbū, Aurangzeb Åālamgīr, have promised me to help in establishing Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah if I do establish my own media empire. I need Durgesh’s help in it. He is experienced. He has already done it for HVSI.”
“And why do you want to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah?”
Muħammad bin Qāsim felt himself humiliated somewhat.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan has successfully converted former Saůūdī Årab now in Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat. I appreciate her stupendous success very much and I want her to help in her sacred movement to establish Democracy in the rest of the Pseudo Islamic countries as well.”
“I see.” Muħammad bin Qāsim said curtly.
“Similarly, your wife, Taufīq Fātimah, is not interested initially in business.”
“To hell with your damn business.” Taufīq Fātimah admitted bitterly, “I’m an actress and I love my profession more than even my life. Yet, I too want to enjoy a happy married life with Durgesh as my husband.”
“That’s what I suspected.” Muħammad bin Qāsim said, “You promised me if I produce a porn movie, directed by my Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim, starring you with Durgesh, you’d be as grateful to me as you’d never leave me being my wife.”
“I am true to my promise.” Taufīq Fātimah smiled, “I’m still your wife, am I not? Even while I know you love Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s and Rājesh Rājpūt’s Uncut Hindu Lunds in your feminine Musalmān ass.”
“Well, I accept I am a bisexual. And I am not ashamed of it.”
“So,” I smiled, “actually none of us is interested in business. I want to do what Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah is interested in, because she has cuckolded Muħammad Ůsmān for me, despite the fact I hate to cuckold anyone.”
“Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah didn’t do any such thing.” Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed, “It was her younger sister Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah who kidnapped you and raped successfully. Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah never appreciated Muħammad Ůsmān. She convinced Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah to cuckold Muħammad Ůsmān for you. However, what’s wrong in cuckolding anyway? Isn’t it more human and lovelier to have a permanent threesome with your wife’s lover, if you can’t satisfy your wife sexually completely, yet you still love her?”*
I dressed to run my errands.
As I was preparing to leave, I called out to the Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls that I was leaving.
Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās ran up, in her panties and gave me a hug and kiss before I left.
“I know Zubaydah Bābar and Nishāt Nazli are going to try to bang you while I’m gone. It’s Ok if you want to. I don’t mind. So don’t think that you’ll be cheating on me, or anything. Just have a good time.”
As Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās turned to go she grasped my Uncut Hindu Cock through my pants and gave me a squeeze then returned to finish dressing.
Bābarah Åālamgīr leaned on the wall smirking at me.
“You’re getting more young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choots these couple of weeks, than you did the whole time you were living in Live in relationship to my Ammī. Aren’t you?” Bābarah Åālamgīr laughed. “Have fun, we’ll see you later.”
I left shaking my head.
‘Jamīlah Aurangzeb’s daughter, Bābarah Åālamgīr, sure as hell, grew up, didn’t she?’ I said to myself.
Then I remembered where we were really going.
My mood changed.
I found myself a happy man once more.
Happy at the thought that Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās and Bābarah Åālamgīr would soon have permanently here where I lived in my present body.
It was the logical thing for both of them to stay with me.
I would have them both full time.
Then I won’t have to care for their safety from the communal Pseudo Musalmīn, and/or terrorists and criminal/ criminal minded Musalmīn.
As I drove to my various errands, I rolled the events of the last few days around in my mind.
I realized I was as happy about Bābarah Åālamgīr staying with me, as I was for Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās.
I also admitted to myself that I was ready to surrender to even Bābarah Åālamgīr now.
Now it was no use to refuse anymore.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was determined to replace her Ammī as my new Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Live in relationship Partner.
She was deliberately winning me.
Now I really did want to make love to her, often.
I almost did this morning in the shower.
I was inches away from bending her over and slipping inside her then.
Honestly, I was just waiting for her to make one move in that direction, one come on, just one sign that she wanted it as she had told me the night before.
Then again, when Bābarah Åālamgīr had stayed with us, while I banged Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās, minutes later.
I had in fact intended on laying her down, as soon as I was finished with Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās.
However, when I came in Nasīm Muåāwiyah/Al Ħamd Al Åbbās’s mouth, I lost my hardness, which was a rare event.
Yet it was not surprising however, after the previous night and earlier in the morning.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was right.
I was getting more young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choots in the last week than I had had previously.
I returned home shortly before noon and found that Zubaydah Bābar and Nishāt Nazli had not returned from the beach yet.
I was surprised.
I half expected to find them both naked in my bed waiting for me.
I was actually relieved.
I wanted to be alone for some time now.
I had gotten up early and been running all morning, not to mention all the ashvinātam sex.
I was tired somewhat.
Yet, I changed into my bathing suit before I lay down on the bed to wait for them.
As might be expected, I dropped off to sleep almost immediately.
I woke later to find that Zubaydah Bābar and Nishāt Nazli had joined me.
Both were wearing their swimsuits.
Nishāt Nazli had her usual almost nothing thong and surprisingly Zubaydah Bābar was wearing a relatively modest bikini.
Both were asleep but apparently, lightly as when I moved they both woke.
“Hi,” Nishāt Nazli said muzzily, “you looked comfortable so we decided to lie down and wait for you. Too much sun and ocean. We got tired.” She reached her arm across my chest and ran her hand over me while she talked.
Zubaydah Bābar had her hand on my leg.
She was stroking my thigh.
“So are you hungry?” she asked. “We were, so we ate when we got back. We can have my cook make you something.”
“No thanks. I just lay down to wait for you and must have dropped off. I didn’t mean to make you miss the beach time.” I offered.
“That’s Ok it was nice lying here with you. You’re a good bed friend. You don’t roll around or snore, well at least not much.” Zubaydah Bābar teased.
“So are we going to the beach or what?” I asked.
“That depends on if “or what” includes getting naked.” Nishāt Nazli answered.
She was still stroking my chest and belly.
However, once she said it, she slid her hand down inside my swim trunks to run her hand over my hardening Uncut Hindu Prick.
I smiled at her.
“Don’t you ever think about anything, but getting laid?”
“Yeah, I think about playing golf and getting laid by you, and eating and getting laid by you, and drinking and getting laid by you, and dancing and getting laid by you.” Nishāt Nazli winked at me significantly.
Zubaydah Bābar did not want to be left out.
She had moved her hand up the leg of my trunks.
She was fondling my Uncut Hindu Cock and balls now.
As Zubaydah Bābar did it, I laughed at Nishāt Nazli’s joke.
Then I put an arm around each, drew them close, and kissed them each.
“If you Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls keep up what you’re doing you’re going to make me make a mess in my trunks.”
“That would be a terrible waste of good Hindu cum.” Zubaydah Bābar offered as she drew her hand out and started working the ties on my trunks.
As we loosened, she and Nishāt Nazli slid them off me and down to my knees, exposing my Uncut Hindu manhood in its entire splendor.
Nishāt Nazli reached out and took me in hand, as I leaned over and kissed Zubaydah Bābar with a passionate tongue-swapping kiss.
As I held her in embrace, I reached back and unhooked her bikini top freeing her large Musalmān breasts.
Together we removed her top and Zubaydah Bābar began to squirm out of the bottom of her suit as Nishāt Nazli worked my Uncut Hindu Cock in her hand.
Nishāt Nazli could not resist the Hindu monster she was holding for long, shortly dropped her beautiful Musalmān head down, and took as much of my Uncut Hindu Lund into her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth as Nishāt Nazli could manage and began to bob on me.
While she sucked my Uncut Hindu Cock, Zubaydah Bābar and I had managed to remove Zubaydah Bābar‘s suit.
I had taken one of her Musalmān tits into my palm while my other hand probed Zubaydah Bābar’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot sliding a finger deep inside her and using my thumb to tickle her ravenous Musalmān clit at the same time.
Zubaydah Bābar was humping herself onto my hand and already was lost in lust.
Nishāt Nazli was still working on giving me a grand blowjob when I reached down and urged her up to me.
She released my Uncut Hindu Lund and moved up to where I was playing with Zubaydah Bābar’s Musalmān tit.
I released her Musalmān tit and offered it to Nishāt Nazli.
She bent to her friend’s breast and began to lick and suck it into her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth teasing the large extended nipple.
I replaced my finger with my Uncut Hindu Lund buried into Zubaydah Bābar’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot working it and working her closer to orgasm.
I used my free hand to untie Nishāt Nazli’s top and free her from the confines of the tiny top she wore.
Then I turned my attentions to the thong she wore.
She tugged it down and off her, revealing her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot mound to me.
I pushed and urged the Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls together until Nishāt Nazli was perched on top of Zubaydah Bābar and still was sucking her Musalmān tits.
I had positioned them so that their Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Pussies were together.
Now while I was still Penising Zubaydah Bābar they began to grind themselves together.
I let my Uncut Hindu Lund slide from her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot and up into Nishāt Nazli’s to check and make sure she was as wet and ready as Zubaydah Bābar was.
Zubaydah Bābar whimpered at the loss of my Uncut Hindu Lund in her still ravenous Musalmān Choot.
But the loss was not long and soon she felt my Uncut Hindu Prick probing her tight little Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Twat, working its way up and down her tremendously attractive immensely pretty immensely smart, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Musalmān slit as I kneeled between her Musalmān legs.
Then without further warning, I pushed and began to slide in.
Zubaydah Bābar responded with a loud immensely happy grunt and arched herself against her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriend’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot that was still rubbing hers as my Uncut Hindu Cock worked its way inside Zubaydah Bābar.
It took me a bit of effort to get all the way inside, just as it had the night before in the hot tub, but soon I was all the way in and pumping away on her.
Zubaydah Bābar was lost in the grand sex with me.
She had my massive Uncut Hindu Cock filling her tiny Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Twat so full it almost hurt and her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriend and lover was mashing her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot into her own while she suckled on her breast.
She could feel her orgasm building as my Uncut Hindu Cock in her, pounded her Pakistani Musalmān insides, every stroke slamming against her cervix, bottoming out.
Soon it was there, her muscles wouldn’t respond and Zubaydah Bābar started to shudder then the release of fluids from her nether regions bathed my Uncut Hindu Cock in her cum, the word went gray and reality lost focus for a few seconds as her orgasm finished and spent itself.
The pounding slowed and lessened finally stopping as I withdrew from her.
However, I did not stop.
I raised my point of aim and slid all the way inside Nishāt Nazli with one stroke.
I held it there for a few seconds as she acclimated and stretched to accept me, before I started the relentless pounding in that Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.
Nishāt Nazli was busy enjoying the feeling of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girlfriend’s body as I pounded her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.
She was sucking her massive Musalmān tits.
Licking the areoles then drawing the nipples into her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth to grasp them in her teeth and bite down to send little tendrils of pain through her friend’s breasts.
My Uncut Hindu Cock worked on Nishāt Nazli.
She could feel Zubaydah Bābar moving underneath her as my Uncut Hindu Cock forced its way back and forth and the movement created a friction on her own Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot that in reality wasn’t much more than a tease to her.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
I never thought Muħammad bin Qāsim was so great a man.
I thought he was drastically communal.
Yet my opinion about Muħammad bin Qāsim was mostly based on the reports I received either from his sisters or from Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
However, Shankar Mahāpralayankar was himself a drastic Hindu communal.
He hated Musalmīn to the extent that he wanted every Musalmān woman get fucked by a Hindu whether that Hindu is himself a Sukr’t, a noble doer, or not.
I took the envelope from him.
“I tried to entrust ACP Suraiyā Jamāl for this envelope. But she refused to have it. Instead, she advised me to give it to you.”
“Don’t worry.” I said gravely, “I would see to it that whoever the conspirator/conspirators are, s/he/they never succeed. And in case, Taufīq Fātimah really needed my help, she’d get it.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim was overwhelmed.
He fell on my feet.
“Please, forgive me, Jījū. I was a damn fool that I hated you. I was so communal that I couldn’t see anything except that you are a Hindu and you were fucking extremely attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Beauties. I couldn’t differentiate you from the ever-communal ever anti-Muslim Shankar Mahāpralayankar. I’m sorry.”
I raised him from my feet and hugged him.
If he was doing an act, it was really marvelous.
But, the question was: If I could adjust with even Shankar Mahāpralayankar why couldn’t I adjust with Muħammad bin Qāsim too?
Were both of them not communal?
So, if one of them was excused why not the other too?
Why not the other too?*
Muħammad bin Qāsim looked at me.
“I discussed the matter with your friend ACP Suraiyā Jamāl. She thinks I’m mistaken. Taufīq Fātimah may not be as innocent in her opinion as I think out of sheer stupidity that I want to possess a Hollywood celebrity.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim was right.
ACP Suraiyā Jamāl had met me once when I was coming out of Al Muħammad Al Qāsim Mansion.
The door of Muħammad bin Qāsim’s office was locked.
Almost immediately, we could hear the sound of steps.
Muħammad bin Qāsim, radiating his inherent femininity more than he was radiating his masculinity opened the door.
“Well, well, well, my greatest Hindu Jījū with my Hollywood celebrity wife, in person?” his eyes seemed hot with emotion.
However, his more feminine and less masculine face was cool, collected and thoroughly master of himself.
Yet his eyes belied his placid, docile, calm features.
He was not an utter damn fool after all.
“Come on, Jījū. So, your porn star heroine received you here?”
Taufīq Fātimah laughed.
“Jealous of who, Muħammad bin Qāsim? Jealous of me that I got Durgesh as my porn costar hero, or jealous of Durgesh that he has already enjoyed your Hollywood Celebrity wife to his heart’s content?”
Muħammad bin Qāsim laughed good-naturedly.
“Hey, you were NOT my wife then. I’m proud of myself that you decided to marry me ultimately while my Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt Jījū was also available to you.”
“That’s the spirit.” Taufīq Fātimah winked at her husband, “Why the hell we be jealous of something that’s running from someone’s past? Why shouldn’t we be proud of the present? It’s the positive thinking, the positive attitude toward life.”
“Thank you. Won’t you two porn stars come in, please?”
I didn’t contradict him.
It was useless.
People easily used to suspect that I’ve already fucked every Beauty that they saw with me ever, whether she was a Musalmān Beauty or other.
Even if they believed I didn’t make the first move, they never believed the innocence of the Beauty concerned.
They thought every Beauty was crazy to fuck me however moral she was.
I was an exception for the Beauties as far as their morals were concerned.
In their bright opinion, I was something like a trophy, every Beauty whosoever was crazy, to get if she could ever.
Muħammad bin Qāsim escorted Taufīq Fātimah and me through an outer office into his private office.
“I want you folks to meet Miss Bābarah Åālamgīr. She is a successful reporter as well as she has a real estate agency in the building and I knew she’d be working late. I asked her to come in.”*
I walked past them to the coffee pot.
“You’re just jealous that it wasn’t you screaming I quipped.” I smiled at Nishāt Nazli.
“Damn right we are.” Nishāt Nazli answered.
“Yeah, what we got last night was just a tease. We’re going to try to bribe Nasīm Muåāwiyah into letting us fuck you wildly.” Zubaydah Bābar threatened.
Bābarah Åālamgīr just sat there sipping her coffee and smiling.
She was admiring my Uncut Hindu Lund and how tight and firm it was then as I turned to face them she licked her quivering crimson Musalmān lips at the sight of my half-inflated Uncut Hindu Cock.
Bābarah Åālamgīr once again stiffened her resolve to have me inside her as soon as she could manage it.
“So what are you Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Musalmān girls planning for today?” I asked cunningly smiling, teasing them.
“Nishāt Nazli and I are going in for some more beach time.” Zubaydah Bābar answered miraculously.
“Nasīm Muåāwiyah wanted to go visit her aunt, she doesn’t live far and I told her I’d drive. We’ll probably be back after lunch.” Bābarah Åālamgīr answered. “In fact we need to leave in about two hours so I figure I’ll let her sleep a bit before I wake her. What about you?”
“Is she really Nasīm Muåāwiyah ? Isn’t she Al Ħamd Al Åbbās?”
“Are you crazy? I don’t know what Al Zakāt Al Qāsim is after, yet you…”
“I have some errands to run this morning, then back here before lunch and be lazy the rest of the day.” I answered, interrupting the tense high voltage interchange among them.
Al Zakāt Al Qāsim has really disturbed them materially.
“Goody, we’ll come back for lunch and then drag you down to the beach with us. You fuck us all on the beach, Hindu boy. “Nishāt Nazli offered.
“You know living here I very rarely go to the beach. It’s 100 yards away and I haven’t even been down once this season. So maybe I’ll take you up on that.”
“Well, we want to get there and get a good spot so we are going to get our suits on and get going. See you at lunch.” Zubaydah Bābar said.
With the two of them leaving, Bābarah Åālamgīr and I were left alone once again.
We made small talk for a while.
I noticed how comfortable I had become with Jamīlah Aurangzeb’s daughter, Bābarah Åālamgīr’s nudity and with my own around her.
We both were nude.
The relationship of a Hindu Stepfather and Musalmān stepdaughter was fading away fast, with deliberate nonstop efforts from Bābarah Åālamgīr.
She was adamant to convert it into a permanent live in relationship now.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was determined to have me inside her, as her Ammī had.
“I wonder if that’s a good thing.” I asked myself.
I also knew that they weren’t going to see Nasīm Muåāwiyah‘s aunt today.
They had interviews with my friend Shankar, the president of the Qāid-e-Åāzam University Islamabad board, but I didn’t say anything.
I did wonder though when they were going to tell me.
‘Probably want to make sure they have the job.’ I reasoned.
We toasted a couple of bagels and added juice to our breakfast before finishing with another cup of coffee.
I enjoyed the time with Bābarah Åālamgīr and the conversation.
“Well I guess I should get a shower and get dressed. Do you want me to wake Nasīm Muåāwiyah, or do you yourself want to?” I asked Bābarah Åālamgīr.
“She’s got some time yet to sleep. Probably when you get out of the shower you can wake her.” She answered as I stood to head for the shower.
I acknowledged her request, walked toward the bedroom and then walked in shower in the master bath.
As I walked away, Bābarah Åālamgīr watched my Uncut Hindu Lund work and she found herself with a finger in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot as I disappeared around the corner.
“Ohh, I’m getting bad.” Bābarah Åālamgīr thought to herself. “Fingering myself as I watch Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund walk away. I do need to fuck Durgesh soon.” She thought as she continued to diddle herself.
Bābarah Åālamgīr sat there for a couple of minutes before she got up the nerve to follow the thought that ran through her mind and suddenly she stood and headed after me.
“Before I lose my nerve. I may not get to fuck Durgesh today but I’ll at least take another step closer.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr walked to my bedroom door.
I had left it opened when I went in.
Bābarah Åālamgīr noted that Nasīm Muåāwiyah was still sound asleep.
Bābarah Åālamgīr turned, opened the door to the bathroom and slipped in.
I was in the shower and the glass doors were all steamed up.
I couldn’t see her.
She opened the door quietly.
I had my back turned.
Bābarah Åālamgīr slipped in and quietly closed the door.
Before I could turn around, Bābarah Åālamgīr picked up the soap, quickly soaped up her hands, reached out and began to run her soapy hands down my back.
I moaned at her touch.
Yet I couldn’t help to arch my back, though successfully suppressing the consequent natural pleasure.
I didn’t want to let the others, whosoever they might be, capitalize on my weaknesses.
It might be dangerous for HVSI Group of Companies and myself too.
I had to act prudently ever.
“I tried not to wake you, Nasīm Muåāwiyah, but now I’m glad I did. You can keep that up as long as you like.”
I couldn’t even imagine it wasn’t Nasīm Muåāwiyah or Al Ħamd Al Åbbās at all.
It was Bābarah Åālamgīr.
Smiling cunningly, yet without answering, Bābarah Åālamgīr stepped up behind me and ran her hands down my sides and around to my chest and stomach.
From my response, Bābarah Åālamgīr knew I loved the attention and when she moved her hands down to wash my Uncut Hindu Cock, Bābarah Åālamgīr found it was rock hard.
She allowed her soapy hands to stroke me and then reached underneath to fondle my Hindu balls.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was tempted to keep going and jerk me off or at least get me to a state of arousal where I would not refuse her, but she chose to go with her original plan.
Slow and sure, one step at a time.
Bābarah Åālamgīr already knew she was winning me over and it would not be much longer.
Bābarah Åālamgīr took my Uncut Hindu Lund in her hands and stroked me a bit more before she let me go.
“Ok Durgesh darling, my turn now.” Bābarah Åālamgīr said as she turned her back to me to be washed.*
I was shocked.
I had been so sure it was Nasīm Muåāwiyah in the shower with me I never even looked.
“Bābarah Åālamgīr,” I was curt somewhat, “what the hell are you doing here with me?”
“I figured I needed a shower too, and we could save water.” Bābarah Åālamgīr answered innocently, glancing back over her shoulder. “Come on, do my back please.”
I was furious.
Jamīlah Aurangzeb’s daughter, Bābarah Åālamgīr, had gotten into the shower with me and had washed me already, without my express permission.
She had even stroked my Uncut Hindu Cock.
But not all that much, she could have been washing me.
My thoughts warred in my head.
We had been sitting talking, having breakfast just a few minutes ago, completely naked and neither of us objected it.
Was this really a big step?
Then almost without conscious thought, as my brain argued with our mutual desires, I picked up the soap and started to wash her back for her.
She won’t stop, I knew now.
She had experienced my unique legendary Uncut Hindu Cock in her palm now.
She had played with it while I thought she was Nasīm Muåāwiyah.
Now, no use locking the stable after the horse was stolen.
Let her go ahead, because she is adamant to go ahead.
So, why after a bitter argument?
Why not without any argument if it’s inevitable?
My hands touched her naked shoulders, ran over them and across her shoulder blades.
Bābarah Åālamgīr arched her back at my touch.
I followed through; by running, my hands down her back, to the top of her extremely beautiful Musalmān ass and then turned them away and up her sides and back down again.
I slid them down her sides to her Musalmān legs, continued washing the outsides of her thighs, and then again turned and this time brought them over her extremely beautiful Musalmān ass in slow loving circles.
I washed her extremely beautiful Musalmān ass carefully and ran my hands down over the swell of it and down her thighs.
That done, I brought them back up across her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān butt and around to her stomach slowly running my hands over her flat stomach and upwards, up toward her chest.
Then finally, I ran my hands over her Musalmān tits.
I let my palms rest over her nipples and moved them around in circles, washing them but at the same time stimulating them.
Then all too soon I moved them back down across her tummy to her enormously stunning Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mound, over the little strip of hair that she left there and down across her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.
Bābarah Åālamgīr, smiling triumphantly, spread her Musalmān legs a little to allow me inside her thighs.
I brushed her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot lips with my hand.
A tingle shot through Bābarah Åālamgīr.
Then I was done.
She felt me begin to release her and then stop.
I brought my hands back up to her Musalmān tits, cupped them, and drew her to me.
My front against her back.
Bābarah Åālamgīr could feel my full 9 ½ inches pressing into the small crack of her back and felt a trickle of juice release from her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot as she realized what it was she was feeling pressing back there.
I held nude Bābarah Åālamgīr to nude me, my hands over her Musalmān tits pressing into me and I kissed the top of her head.
“I love you honey, Bābarah Åālamgīr.” I whimpered passionately.
I squeezed her a bit harder then released her.
Bābarah Åālamgīr turned to face me and kissed me on the lips, gently,
“I love you too Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!”
Bābarah Åālamgīr wrapped her arms around my middle and pulled me close.
Bābarah Åālamgīr reveled in the feeling of my Uncut Hindu Cock pressing into her belly.
I placed my hands on her back and let them run up and down.
Fondling her and feeling her, touching her extremely beautiful Musalmān ass and thighs.
Then I released her.
“I think we’re clean enough. We should get out.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr smiled triumphantly once more, nodded as she released me and we stepped out of the shower.
She was afraid I was going to ignore her now, but to her pleasant surprise, I didn’t.
I smiled at her and offered to dry her off.
Bābarah Åālamgīr gladly accepted the invitation.
Then as I ran, the big soft towel over her extremely striking Panjvaqtah Namāzī female Musalmān body Bābarah Åālamgīr felt as though she would orgasm from my touch.
“Nasīm Muåāwiyah is right you do have a really nice touch, very sensual. Thank you for doing that for me Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! It was nice to have you wash me and it was nice to wash you.” Bābarah Åālamgīr told me as she took a clean towel and rubbed me dry.
I noticed she spent a little more time on my Uncut Hindu Cock and balls than would have been required but I did not stop her or even mention it.
It was no use now.
Moreover, mostly, I admitted to myself because I enjoyed it too.
Then I surprised Bābarah Åālamgīr once more.
“Yes it was excellent. Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
Bābarah Åālamgīr was pleasantly shocked.
That almost sounded like an invitation, certainly an acknowledgement.
Now Bābarah Åālamgīr was more certain than ever that she was winning this battle.
Bābarah Åālamgīr even had the feeling that I was sorely tempted in the shower to just give up and make love to her.
She knew she was too.
Bābarah Åālamgīr had fought off the temptation the whole time just to drop to her knees and suck me into her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth.
She smiled to herself, soon, soon she would have me and it would be better because I would do it willingly, even eagerly.
That was how it needed to be if it was to be right and good between us.
Bābarah Åālamgīr stood on her toes and kissed me again.
“Thanks Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!. Now let’s go wake Nasīm Muåāwiyah up.” Bābarah Åālamgīr deliberately squeezed my Uncut Hindu Lund, bent down, kissed it, licked it, and suddenly taking it fully in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth, Bābarah Åālamgīr started to give me a tremendous blowjob.
Absolutely unprepared for it, I was startled and dumbfounded.
Bābarah Åālamgīr played it very smart.
She proposed to go wake Nasīm Muåāwiyah.
And when I was confident there won’t be any more mischief from her, Bābarah Åālamgīr suddenly started sucking my Uncut Hindu Lund without any ultimatum whatsoever.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was happily sucking my Uncut Hindu Lund now, triumphantly that her strategy worked.
Before I could object, my Uncut Hindu Lund was inside her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth and Bābarah Åālamgīr was sucking it already ravenously.
Realizing Bābarah Åālamgīr’s strategy and her victory over me, I closed my eyes and surrendered to the immense sexual bliss Bābarah Åālamgīr was bestowing on me.
It was futile now to stop Bābarah Åālamgīr.
She could not be stopped now.
Even the hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
From the service Bābarah Åālamgīr was providing to my Uncut Hindu Lund, it was more than obvious; Bābarah Åālamgīr loved me with all her existence.
Now it was up to me to have her as my indebted friend or scorned enemy.
Was I fool enough to convert my such a devoted friend into my enemy?
I opted to stand there, surrendering to Bābarah Åālamgīr’s needs; with my eyes closed, enjoying every blissful moment of it.
It lasted as if until infinity.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was attacking my Uncut Hindu Lund with her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth in every way possible, as if it was a matter of life and death to her.
She had gripped my hips strongly.
Bābarah Åālamgīr was on her knees.
And her exceedingly beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth was extremely busy with my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Bābarah Åālamgīr sucked my Uncut Hindu Lund ravenously in every possible way.
It was obvious from her every expression Bābarah Åālamgīr was enjoying the act very much.
Ultimately, I had to explode into Bābarah Åālamgīr’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān mouth.
Bābarah Åālamgīr looked triumphantly at me and gulped every drop of my Hindu Vīrý I blasted into her tremendously attractive awfully stunning enormously cute, incredibly elegant, Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Musalmān mouth.
Then Bābarah Åālamgīr winked at me.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist the temptation. Thanks for your cooperation however.”
“Sālī.” I smiled, “very smart of you. I was caught absolutely unprepared.”
“I’m 29 now, my darling. And a PhD. I can take care of my dreams.” Bābarah Åālamgīr’s mischievous Musalmān eyes were sparkling triumphant.
“Yes, I can see it now.”
Suddenly Bābarah Åālamgīr stood up, hugged me with her arms around my neck, and kissed me full on my Hindu lips.
My Uncut Hindu Lund was rock hard.
It was knocking on the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān entrance of Bābarah Åālamgīr’s Jannat-e-Firdaus.
Bābarah Åālamgīr opened her Musalmān legs wider and allowed my Uncut Hindu Lund to enter her Jannat-e-Firdaus.
My entire head vanished into her ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.
“Enough, Bābarah Åālamgīr.” I ordered her curtly, “No more mischief. Let it remain there. No more penetration now if you really don’t want to lose me forever.”
“Okay. Sorry if I’ve gone too far.” Bābarah Åālamgīr looked into my eyes impishly, entirely unashamed of anything she was doing.
“I want your Uncut Hindu Lund into my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot fully embedded deepest.”
“I know, Sālī, I know. But not now.”
“I promise to fuck you as much as you want to, but not now.”
“I need it now.”
“Bābarah Åālamgīr, I never wanted you as my woman.”
“But I always loved you as my dream man.”
“But you never said it to me. Now let me adjust mentally for what you want from me. Don’t speed it up. You want to make yourself a better wife to me than your Ammī was. Don’t you?”
Bābarah Åālamgīr’s mischievous Musalmān eyes sparkled.
“Of course. I want to replace my Ammī forever. And I’m not ashamed of it even a bit. You maybe sixty three as you claim but you are still the most competent Hindu husband for all of us Musalmān Beauties.”
The two of us moved out to the bedroom and got onto the bed on either side of the still sleeping Nasīm Muåāwiyah.
She was still on her belly exactly the way I left her earlier.
We called her name and ran our hands down her back until she stirred.
“Come on it’s time to get up. You have to go see your aunt, Bābarah Åālamgīr tells me.” I said.
“Hmmm, I was hoping you’d wake me up the way you did earlier.” Nasīm Muåāwiyah purred sleepily.
Bābarah Åālamgīr laughed.
“If Durgesh does that you’ll go see your aunt with his Hindu cum running down your leg and we can’t have that, can we?”
“But it was so much fun.” Nasīm Muåāwiyah pouted “Just a little. Please.” She asked raising her extremely beautiful Musalmān ass up into the air and wiggling it back and forth.
Bābarah Åālamgīr moved around behind her and looked at her extremely beautiful Musalmān ass and Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Choot.
“I don’t know Durgesh darling, méré Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!. It looks pretty good. If I were a guy I would definitely do her. Hell, if you don’t. I might just eat her out right here.”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam