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 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
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
Muħammad has spied upon his wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah Umm Fātimah, in the throws of sexual intercourse with me.
I was not her husband.
Muħammad himself was her husband.
It seemed odd that his wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah Umm Fātimah, would find familial relations more sexually intimate than normal social relations.
In any case, Muħammad always recalled that evening and what followed with vivid clarity.
My muscular back holding myself over her as her plump excellent Musalmān breasts moved up and down on her frame with each Hindu thrust I made.
The covers were even still not shielding our waists so Muħammad would be unable to discern any details below our torsos.
It was all boldly open.
‘Pardah nahīn jab koī Kħudā sé bandon sé pardah karnā kyā?’
‘Pardah nahīn jab koī Kħudā sé bandon sé pardah karnā kyā?
Jab chudwā rahī, to darnā kyā?
Hindu Lund jađ tak ghus jāyé dūjī parwah karnā kyā?
Jab chudwā rahī, to darnā kyā?
Choot-e-Musalmān aaj bahut kħush,
Jađ tak jāyé Hindu Lund ghus.
Kħūb saŧāsaŧ andar bāhar, bāhar hī bas rahnā kyā?
Jab chudwā rahī, to darnā kyā?’
Being himself an Urdu poet, Muħammad went on to imagine his wife’s psychology then sarcastically continuously nonstop, as I was fucking Muħammad’s beautiful wife, continuously nonstop.
My bottom was thrusting with an even motion and each time my lower half descended, his wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah Umm Fātimah, gave a glorious sigh of satisfaction.
This piston-like action went on for long hours before her hands began gripping the sheets and then my back; her breaths coming in short gasps between cries of “Allah! Oh, God.” And “yeah.”
Holding my back, she lifted herself up and began aggressively kissing me hard on my mouth as her beautiful Musalmān groin thrust with more force against me.
And that’s when it happened.
Her eyes met with Muħammad’s.*
While we kissed passionately, her eyes widened and Muħammad could tell her mind was being ravaged with a thousand scenarios of what she should do.
Muħammad too was in a state of shock.
They both knew what Muħammad was doing was wrong; spying on anyone fucking was rude, let alone a close family member.
However, they were both in such a state of arousal that no such social decorum mattered.
They saw in each other’s faces the mask of pure lust, Muħammad for her and Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah, for me.
Yet in that time and place, it didn’t matter that they were husband and wife, what only mattered was that they were both sexually aroused.
That’s the best Muħammad could describe it in any case.
Instead of stopping and closing the door or even discreetly shooing Muħammad away, Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah, simply smiled, her eyes aflame with the decision she knew would affect their relationship.
In that moment, they had a tacit agreement that they, Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah, and Muħammad were sharing this because of their secret complicity and that I was not only a product for our amusement, their actual master controller instead.
Staring at Muħammad, Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah, fucked me harder, encouraging me to meet her wild, animal, violent force.
“You gonna come?” Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah, said in my ear, but looking at Muħammad.
And then Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah, nodded to Muħammad, an indication that Muħammad could masturbate, if he needed.
Muħammad reached his hand into his sweat pants and began to stroke himself.
“You gonna come, Durgesh, the sixty five years old ever young Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā?” She repeated into my ear.
“Not possible, it’s too early, Sālī.” I said smiling brightly.
His wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah Umm Fātimah, then grabbed me and pulled my head back.
“Hold on, big boy. Okay. Not yet.” She then disengaged from me and pushed me on my back, the top of my head facing Muħammad’s direction.
Now his wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah Umm Fātimah, and Muħammad would have an unimpaired view of each other’s faces.
I lay back and his wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah Umm Fātimah, straddled my nude Hindu waist slowly rubbing the folds of her engorged and heated labia over my throbbing Uncut Hindu Lund .
“We’re gonna make it last. Okay?” Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah, said, and then looking up at Muħammad with as if giving a command:
“There’s no hurry. No office tomorrow.”
It was clearly meant for Muħammad.
His wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah Umm Fātimah, still teasing my Uncut Hindu Lund with the outside of her pink extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot, began to slowly and methodically stroke my Uncut Hindu Lund with her pink extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot.
I groaned, hissed and smiled.
“You know that makes me cum, baby. But never if I don’t want to.”
Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah Umm Fātimah, smiled with one side of her mouth.
It looked sexy and cruel.
“I know, Durgesh darling. Nevertheless, I too need you to keep it together. We’re gonna make it last. You can handle it until infinity, don’t you?” Inch by seemingly painful inch Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah, coated my throbbing Uncut Hindu Lund with the fluids of her female Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān excitement.
At last, she put my unique legendary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund into her pink extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot, simply sat there and made eye contact with Muħammad once more.
While Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah, sat squarely on my unique legendary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund, I lay there running my hands over Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah Umm Fātimah’s excellent plump Musalmān breasts, playing with her nipples and stroking her face.
Nevertheless, Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah Umm Fātimah, stared at Muħammad and Muħammad at her.
None of them was ashamed of the other.
Moreover, Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah, started fucking me wildly aggressively shamelessly boldly.
“You want to watch us live, Muħammad? No problem. Sit down. It may last even too much longer than you could have imagined, kid.”
Muħammad was too furious to say anything.
He hadn’t felt as humiliated as he was feeling himself humiliated now.
His own young, twenty eight years old, Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful ardent Musalmān wife was fucking Durgesh, the sixty five years old Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, straddling him shamelessly and calling Muħammad ‘kid’.*
Wājidah Akbar ran out of the building hoping to catch up with us.
She was going to follow us, and find out more information.
As much as she could.
She watched Saåīdah Yåqūb and I get into my sports car and we took off fast.
“Huh! We’re probably in a hurry to fuck those ashvinātam sickos.” Wājidah Akbar said as she geared her car to drive.
She was riding smoothly following us.
Suddenly she remembered that Saåīdah Yåqūb lived in the suburbs, or at least that’s what she put in her application information.
Wājidah Akbar moaned knowing it was going to be a long drive.
She followed us closely but was surprised when we got off on the next exit.
She was unsure where we were going but she kept following us.*
Finally, Muħammad saw her stomach muscles begin to flex and relax.
I cried out.
“Eīshān! Oh, God! I can’t hold on now, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah Umm Fātimah!”
Muħammad’s wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah Umm Fātimah, worked my unique legendary Anant Muslimātchod Uncut Hindu Lund with her vaginal muscles and stared at me.
“Don’t worry. You’ve already let me fuck you to more than my heart’s content. Thank you very much, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu Piyā. Let it go. Cum, my life.”
Muħammad and I both released ourselves; I into the wet and warm pink extremely beautiful, extremely lovely, extremely attractive, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān Choot, of his wife, Al Kħadījah Attāhirah Umm Fātimah, and Muħammad into his soft and Downy-fresh surroundings of his sweatpants.
She broke eye contact with Muħammad and leaned down to kiss me.
A knock on the front door brought Muħammad back to reality.*
We finally turned into an apartment complex that Wājidah Akbar was familiar with.
She used to live there herself a few years ago.
She parked her car still being able to see us.
We walked into an apartment together and closed the door behind us.
Wājidah Akbar was still puzzled not knowing exactly what was going on.
She was going to go ahead and drive off but then she got an idea.
She went to visit one of her old neighbors named Aslam.
He used to sell her drugs a while back and they had missed around as well.
She knew he still lived there since she’d gotten some cocaine from him a month ago.
It was dark outside by now and Wājidah Akbar nervously knocked on Aslam’s door.
The young twenty-something ‘male’ opened the door smiling devilishly.
Wājidah Akbar knew she’d have to get right to business.
“Well, well, well. Wājidah Akbar, What brings you here?” Aslam asked with his green eyes looking drowsy.
“Listen Aslam Bhāījān, I just got a question to ask.”
“A question? Are you sure that’s all you came here for? Or did you maybe wanna buy some candy?”
Wājidah Akbar shook her head desperately.
“No, no, no. I need to get some Information about some people that live right over there.” She pointed to the apartment where Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb and I went in.
Aslam poked his head outside.
“Oh yeah. I know the guy who lives there. Well he doesn’t really know me but I’ve seen him around.”
Wājidah Akbar raised her eyebrows.
” Really? Does he live alone?”
“Uh yeah I think he did but lately I’ve seen a pretty brown haired Musalmān Beauty going in there. They look almost like Durgesh and his maternal cousin,”
Wājidah Akbar was now discovering more information.
This was great!
Her plan was gonna go so well and she didn’t care anymore if she got fired or not.
She was getting sweet revenge on Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb.
It was itself a great achievement for Al Wājidah Al Akbar.
“Thank you so much Aslam Bhāījān. Oh, and by the way I would like to buy some candy,” She winked and entered the young man’s apartment.
“Allah, God, I love you. I feel like I’m dying when you’re not here with me Al Wājidah Al Akbar.” He laid next to Al Wājidah Al Akbar after having made sweet love to her.
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb moaned cuddling close to me.
She loved the warmth of my strong male Hindu body.
Allah Allah, how it made her feel so good.
“DURGESH, how long do you think we can keep this up? I mean Ammījān and Abbū know that I have to move out of here in a few weeks.”
I kissed her forehead softly.
“No, you don’t have a car remember? Now, you really need my help.”
She giggled. “Oohh, you’re so good. I love you so much. Not just as a cousin Durgesh, but as my lover. Most of your maternal cousins are already Living In Relationship with you.”
I looked down deep into Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb’s eyes.
“Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb, I want to spend my whole life with you too. I know it sounds crazy or bizarre for Pseudo Musalmīn, but I do.”
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb raised herself kissing me hard.
“I want that too, Durgesh. I mean I’ve never felt so much love for anyone before. I love you and I never want to give you up.”
“How would we ever tell your Ammījān and Abbū?” I asked in a serious tone.
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb’s Ammījān and Abbū both hated Hindus for their idolatry.
They were orthodox conservative traditional Musalmīn.
They never approved of the Musalmān Beauties marrying Hindus ever or Living In Relationship with them.
Musalmān Beauties were doing now it mostly if they were educated.
Pseudo Musalmīn hated modern education therefore the more they were suggested.
“It’s a Judeo Christian conspiracy against Islam.” Their Mullahs and Maulavīs told them, “They know very well neither we would marry our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān womankind with them, neither our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān womankind is interested in them. Therefore they are conspiring against Musalmīn that our Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān womankind marry Hindus. Hindus love to sleep with our extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān womankind crazily because their own womankind is vegetarian mostly and immensely cold sexually therefore.”
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb wasn’t sure how to answer that.
Her parents had brought her up very well and Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb wasn’t sure, how we’d take something like this.
They’d probably not take the news well just like any normal parent would.
Al Wājidah Al Akbar made sure to get to work early the next day.
She smiled for the first time, in a long time.
Sakīnah Āftāb would be back with her as soon as she finds out that Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb is an ashvinātam slut.
She wouldn’t tell Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb to her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān face, or Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face actually.
She had to find the ultimate way to embarrass Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb.
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb arrived a few minutes late to work since traffic had been extremely heavy that morning.
She hurried to her office almost running into the students in the library.
When she arrived, she saw Al Wājidah Al Akbar at the front desk as usual.
Only this time she seemed different.
She looked more alive and actually happy.
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb didn’t care.
She just wanted to stay away from the Musalmān Beauty as much as possible.
“Good morning, Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb,” Al Wājidah Al Akbar said as Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb was passing by.
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb stopped in her track shocked that the Musalmān Beauty was actually talking to her.
“Morning Al Wājidah Al Akbar,” Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb replied politely.
Al Wājidah Al Akbar scoffed.
Oh what a fuckin’ idiot. She thinks I’m actually being nice!
Al Wājidah Al Akbar continued to smile deviously.
“So Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb, are you dating Sakīnah Āftāb now?”
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb looked surprised.
“No. Who said I was?”
Al Wājidah Al Akbar shrugged.
“No one. I was just wondering since you two are always together. You both make a nice couple actually. I know I gave you a hard time at first, but you know I have to get over Sakīnah Āftāb. Durgesh obviously likes you so I just wanted to let you know that I’m ready to be friends with you if that’s OK?”
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb couldn’t have been more shocked.
Still something deep inside told her not to trust this Musalmān Beauty.
“Well that’s fine, Al Wājidah Al Akbar. I appreciate you coming out and telling me this.”
Al Wājidah Al Akbar sighed.
“Oh well, I’m seeing another guy now so it’s OK. Pretty soon you’ll be dating Sakīnah Āftāb and she’ll finally be able to be with the Musalmān Beauty that she really likes.”
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb laughed.
“No, she knows I’m already seeing someone.”
Al Wājidah Al Akbar narrowed her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān eyes.
“Oh really? Well, then you should probably let her see you with your boyfriend, otherwise she’ll just assume you’re making it all up. I know Sakīnah Āftāb.”
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb hesitated to answer.
“Yeah I may just do that. Well, I gotta get to work. See you around.”
Al Wājidah Al Akbar watched Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb walk away feeling she wanted to burst out and laugh hysterically.
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb was definitely involved with Durgesh .
Now Al Wājidah Al Akbar had to just play a few mind games with Al Rashīdah Al Shams and Sakīnah Āftāb to get her revenge on the people that have hurt her the most.
In the morning, the phones were constantly ringing and Al Wājidah Al Akbar was getting tried desperately wanting a break.
She knew Sakīnah Āftāb was in my office and couldn’t wait to get up there and play games with me.
The last call she got was actually not an information call from a student or staff member but from a Musalmān Beauty who claimed to say her name was Noor Jahān Jahāngīr Durrānī.
It was Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb’s Ammī!
“Yes hi Bégum Noor Jahān Jahāngīr Durrānī. My name, is Al Wājidah Al Akbar. I work here with your daughter Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb. I believe she is busy at the moment. Do you need me to leave her a message?”
The Senior Musalmān Beauty’s voice sounded pleasant.
“Yes, can you please let my daughter know that her car is actually already fixed. Her Abbū is going to park by the library rear exit today after lunch.”
Al Wājidah Al Akbar rolled her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān eyes. “Yes, sure, Bégum Noor Jahān Jahāngīr Durrānī. I’ll give her the message.”
She hung up the phone and went upstairs to give Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb the message.
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb was reading her e-mails when Al Wājidah Al Akbar knocked on her door.
She relayed the message and took off to torture Sakīnah Āftāb.
Sakīnah Āftāb was busy printing out the e-mails of staff members that needed programs added to our computers.
“Hey, Sakīnah Āftāb!” Al Wājidah Al Akbar squealed.
Sakīnah Āftāb sighed.
“What is it now, Al Wājidah Al Akbar?”
She hummed suspiciously.
“Oh nothing, just came by to say good morning. You know I know I’ve been a real bitch to you and I’m sorry.”
Sakīnah Āftāb raised her eyebrows in disbelief.
“You’re sorry? Yeah, right. Al Wājidah Al Akbar, you’re more devious than the devil himself.”
Al Wājidah Al Akbar’s smile faded.
“I’m being serious. I mean I still love you and I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you, but I have to get over you.”
Sakīnah Āftāb nodded.
“What kind of game do you think you’re playing with me, Al Wājidah Al Akbar? I already know you by now. You’re cruel and mean.”
“Oh and you and your precious cousin aren’t?” Al Wājidah Al Akbar yelled back.
“Look, just stay away from me, Al Wājidah Al Akbar. I don’t even want to be friends. We are co-workers and nothing else.”
Al Wājidah Al Akbar knew she wasn’t getting away with anything.
She would just have to come right out and tell Sakīnah Āftāb about what she saw between Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb and me.
She was losing me every day and she knew it was because of Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb.
“Sakīnah Āftāb, I have to tell you something.” She said quietly.
Sakīnah Āftāb looked up from her stacks of papers.
“I know who Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb’s boyfriend is.”
Sakīnah Āftāb’s eyes widened.
“You do? Who?”
Al Wājidah Al Akbar paused for a Moment taking a deep breath.
“It’s Durgesh. Her own cousin, the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.”
Sakīnah Āftāb’s jaw dropped open.
“Allah Allah! Oh my God. I can’t believe you’d stoop so low, Al Wājidah Al Akbar.”
Al Wājidah Al Akbar tried to protest but Sakīnah Āftāb cut her off.
“Do you hate Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb that bad? Al Wājidah Al Akbar, I think it’s time you leave this job.”
Al Wājidah Al Akbar was speechless.
Why didn’t she believe her?
How could anyone make something like that up?
“Sakīnah Āftāb, I’m telling you the truth! Please, believe me!” Al Wājidah Al Akbar begged.
Sakīnah Āftāb shook her head.
“No way. You are psychotic and you need help, Al Wājidah Al Akbar. I’m gonna make sure to tell my uncle about you.”
Al Wājidah Al Akbar felt angry tears rise.
“Fuck you. You don’t have to tell your uncle to fire me, I’m quitting! Moreover, remember, I’m going to join the ever infamous Anant Muslimātchod Hindu’s bed myself now. Damn you Musalmīn. That’s what you want, I think. You want Durgesh to fuck my Īmān as well as myself too.”
She ran out Sakīnah Āftāb’s office in tears.
She should have known better than to come out and say it.
She should have let her catch that bitch with me.
It was too late now.
She was leaving and she knew what she had to do.
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb had destroyed her life now she was ready to destroy hers.
“Sweetie, I’m not gonna need for you to pick me up. Abbū’s gonna drop off my car after lunch.” Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb was talking to me over the phone.
“Oh Ok. Will I just see you at home then?”
“No, I was gonna go to Ammījān and Abbū’s after work to drop off some money for having my car fixed. I got paid today you know.” Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb said proudly.
“Hey, well, congrats babe. I’ll see you at home then. I love you Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb.”
“I love you, Durgesh. Bye, Babe.”
She hung up the phone sighing.
Just knowing I would be waiting for her when she got home made her feel so good.
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb went back to her paperwork not knowing what was next to come.
Al Wājidah Al Akbar stomped out of the building angry and hurt.
She noticed everyone staring at her as she walked past the students that stood outside.
She was trying to hurry and get in her car, when she bumped into Al Rashīdah Al Shams.
“Whoa! Slow down, Al Wājidah Al Akbar!” She shouted at her.
“Get out of my way, Al Rashīdah Al Shams. I’m leaving this fuckin’ job and all the fucked up people that work here!”
Al Rashīdah Al Shams stopped her.
“Wait a minute! You’re quitting? What about Sakīnah Āftāb? You gave up so easily? I told you to give me some time to get to Durgesh first.”
Al Rashīdah Al Shams scoffed.
“Ha! Good luck on that one, Al Rashīdah Al Shams.”
Al Rashīdah Al Shams looked confused.
“What do you mean, good luck? Al Wājidah Al Akbar, what do you know that I don’t?”
Al Wājidah Al Akbar didn’t answer.
Just glared into her ex friend’s eyes and walked away.
She turned back and screamed out,
“Just ask your cousin.”
Al Rashīdah Al Shams was still baffled.
She needed to find out what happened.
“Hey, Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb?” Sakīnah Āftāb asked poking her head in Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb’s office.
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb looked up.
“Look, I just want you to be the first to know that Al Wājidah Al Akbar quit today.”
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb looked shocked.
“What? Why? She was being so nice to me this morning.”
Sakīnah Āftāb shrugged.
“I don’t know. She is been saying some nasty things about certain people.”
“What people? Like me?”
“Yes. I don’t like people saying things about someone that’s not true.”
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb felt saddened.
“I don’t know why she hates me so much.”
Sakīnah Āftāb walked closer to Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb.
“It’s probably because I like you so much Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb.”
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb tried to turn her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face away from her but she cupped her pretty face.
“Sakīnah Āftāb, I told you, I’m seeing someone else.”
She knelt down to face her.
Allah, God, you’re so pretty she thought to herself.
She knew she had to kiss her.
She was incredibly wet to stop it.
Her pouty lips had been driving her crazy these past few weeks.
She didn’t think twice and planted a soft kiss on Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb’s lips.
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb quickly moved back away from her.
She gave her a look of surprise.
“Sakīnah Āftāb! Why did you do that?”
Sakīnah Āftāb felt like a jerk but at the same time, she was glad to have been able to kiss such a beautiful Musalmān Beauty.
A Musalmān Beauty even I’d been lusting for.
“I-I’m sorry, Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb. I’m so sorry, it was just a reaction.”
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb got up from her seat and paced the room.
“Ok, I think you need to leave for now, Sakīnah Āftāb.”
Sakīnah Āftāb got up feeling awkward yet incredibly turned on.
“I’m sorry. I really am.” She apologized as she walked out.
Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb felt so uncomfortable now.
She couldn’t wait to get out of work and go home to the man she really loved.
Al Wājidah Al Akbar was driving for a while now with tears in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān eyes.
She felt her heart racing thinking of what she was going to say.
She practiced over and over on her speech.
She was heading over to Al Saåīdah Al Yåqūb’s Ammī’s house.
It was time her Ammī knew that her daughter was an ashvinātam slut.
There isn’t any ashvinātam couple.
The entire Musalmān womankind that make ashvinātam couple is slut.
Not the bloody so called humanity.
What the hell they mean after all?
The Musalmīn are not human beings even?
If they can’t understand Al Jihad fil Islam fī sabīlillah they could call the Muqaddastarīn mujāhidāt-o-mujāhidīn terrorists, criminals, criminal minded?
They want to give us modern education.
Why the hell they themselves don’t take Al Qur’an Al Karīm from us, instead?
What do they think?
There won’t be any qayāmat?
There won’t be any Ākħirat?
The bloody damn fools.
Go to hell all of the bloody Kuffār.
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
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
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
Shiv Shankar Sharmā approached the door, and from the darkened hallway peered in through the crack.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was standing across the room from me.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed in boxers and a t-shirt.
I seemed a little uncomfortable talking to Pārvatī Pāŧhak in her revealing attire, but at the same Time Shiv Shankar Sharmā could see him looking her over whenever her eyes were averted.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was talking about my Musalmān live in relationship partners, beloveds, women friends and other similar Musalmān Beauties.
“They really aren’t right for you, and you should try to find someone else.”
“I know, I know,” I said wearily, clearly tired of talking and thinking about it. “But I can’t seem to hit it off with other women so easily and so naturally. I don’t think they find me attractive. The Musalmān Beauties are the women who…”
“Stop that,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife interrupted. “You are a very attractive man. Most women…” she paused. “I too, find you very attractive.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak‘s words gave Shiv Shankar Sharmā a lump in Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s throat.
Intellectually he knew that at an innocent level what she was saying was perfectly true.
He also knew that if she was crossing the bounds of platonic friendship it was not because she was really attracted to me, but rather to help Shiv Shankar Sharmā and their utmost neglected Brāhmañ community.
Hell, the progress of Brāhmañ society is however always dependent on Bachhalyā Brahmkanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī pairs.
Durgesh is so important now that no community can survive without having its female representatives on his nude Bachhalyā Hindu male lap.
She couldn’t blame Shiv Shankar Sharmā.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak had herself reached the same conclusion whenever she thought about it.
But at the same Time, the words seemed to clutch at Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s heart.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā was going to burst in, but he thought that maybe Pārvatī Pāŧhak could accomplish her purpose merely by building me up verbally.
“Great, the one other woman who finds me attractive is already married, and to my best friend at that.”
I seemed to become even more dejected.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak responded quickly to my discouragement.
“Even still, I have often thought about being with you.”
Shiv Shankar Sharmā assumed she was just try to convince me I was attractive to the Brāhmañ Beauties too, but still Shiv Shankar Sharmā was thrown for a loop.
“Pārvatī Pāŧhak, you’re making me uncomfortable,” I muttered.
“Why? Haven’t you ever thought about being with me, making love to me?”
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh God, I…” I swallowed hard and then seemed unable to continue. “Pārvatī Pāŧhak, why are you teasing me like this?”
In the hallway, Shiv Shankar Sharmā cringed.
This was going worse than expected.
Rather than building me up for Brāhmañ Beauties, it seemed as if Pārvatī Pāŧhak were tearing me down instead.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak realized that things were moving in the wrong direction.
She again upped the ante.
“Who the hell says I am teasing you?” She asked sensuously, and then in one fluid motion she reached down and pulled her nightgown over her head and off.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā! Oh G-God, you are so beautiful,” I smiled as I surveyed Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s naked Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak took two small steps towards me, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā reached out for the door.
“What about Shiv Shankar Sharmā?” I asked suddenly looking toward the door.
Instinctively, Shiv Shankar Sharmā recoiled and pressed back against the far wall of the hallway.
“He knows I am down here.”
“I-I don’t understand. Are you guys swingers?”
“No silly, Shiv Shankar Sharmā just knows how madly attracted I am to you. I begged him to let me come see you as Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s birthday present to me. You know very well I have not been with another man before, neither since I met Shiv Shankar Sharmā.”
“Really? I mean, not about never having been with another man, but about being attracted to me?”
“Why else would I be here dressed this way?”
We both laughed cunningly, yet not lewdly, sophisticatedly instead.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā was again going to burst, but then he glanced at my face.
It was radiant.
For the first Time in years, Shiv Shankar Sharmā saw me smile a real smile.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā was frozen again.
“I want to make love to you,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak said suddenly, bluntly.
And with those words, Shiv Shankar Sharmā knew he could not stop it now.
Too much had been said, and if he burst in now, Shiv Shankar Sharmā would be crushed, Pārvatī Pāŧhak mortified, and the entire friendship destroyed.
Moreover, it would be even far more destructive to their respective Brāhmañ societies than it were if he hadn’t started it.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak, his immensely faithful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ wife has gone now to Durgesh for ever.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā and his Brāhmañ friends had always criticized their Musalmān friends for deliberately cuckolding themselves for their extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies and me using me as present to their extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies on their birthdays, anniversaries etcetera.
Nevertheless, what he had done today?
Pārvatī Pāŧhak was now standing above me.
I took her hands in mine.
“Pārvatī Pāŧhak, I can’t. You are a dear friend, but I just can’t do this to Shiv Shankar Sharmā and Shiv Shankar Sharmā can’t do it to you.”
Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s hopes soared.
Good old I was going to save him after all.
“I want you,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak replied simply.
“Shhh, don’t say a word,” Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife interrupted as she placed a finger across my lips.
“Just close your eyes, and pretend it’s a dream,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak whispered as she broke the kiss and fell to her knees.
For a moment, it seemed like I was going to object, but then slowly I complied.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak gently massaged my well-defined quads, and then slowly pressed my legs apart.
Leaning forward, Pārvatī Pāŧhak trailed soft, wet kisses up and down my inner thighs.
I moaned softly, and Pārvatī Pāŧhak ran a hand up my leg until it rested on my crotch.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak moved forward deliberately, kissing me, rubbing her body against my legs, letting me feel her bare, erect Pāŧhak Brāhmañ nipples against my Bachhalyā Hindu skin.
At the same Time, Pārvatī Pāŧhak started moving the hand on my Bachhalyā groin in languid circles.
As she got closer in, Pārvatī Pāŧhak lifted up my t-shirt with her other hand and started kissing my strong, hairy chest.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak ran her tongue over my stomach, teasing my bellybutton, and tracing my hair as it thickened over my abdomen.
She pressed her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ chest between my Bachhalyā legs, twisting and turned sensuously as Pārvatī Pāŧhak rubbed against me.
With my eyes still closed, I reached out and cautiously ran my fingers through her hair and traced the shape of her ears and cheeks.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak straightened up for a moment and pushed my t-shirt up over my head removing it and tossing it on the bed.
Then Pārvatī Pāŧhak leaned back, grabbed my boxers with both hands, and began to ease them off.
I accommodated her by lifting meself off the bed slightly, and then I was as naked as Pārvatī Pāŧhak herself was.*
As Pārvatī Pāŧhak pulled my shorts past my feet, I got a look between my legs.
Although Shiv Shankar Sharmā had known me for twenty-five years, Shiv Shankar Sharmā had never seen me naked, and Shiv Shankar Sharmā had never known how well endowed I was.
But there, between my legs was unquestionably the most impressively piece of Bachhalyā Hindu manhood Shiv Shankar Sharmā had ever seen in real life.
“Hey Bhagvān! Oh God, what a stunning cock! Bachhalyā Hindu Lund, isn’t it? ” Pārvatī Pāŧhak exclaimed when she finally looked up.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak took it in her hand and stroked it up and down.
Her hand looked tiny against my bulk.
And when Pārvatī Pāŧhak placed one hand above the other, a lot of my shaft and my entire oversized glans were still visible.
As impressive as my length was my incredible thickness.
At the touch of her hand, my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund went completely rigid, although thankfully it did not expand any further.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak seemed to be in pleasant shock.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked up at me, and then back down into my lap.
I’d never known Pārvatī Pāŧhak to have a size fetish, but face to face with my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund Pārvatī Pāŧhak was unquestionably excited.
Her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ face flushed, and she eagerly started kissing me wetly up and down my Bachhalyā shaft even as she continued to pump me with her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ fist.
I moaned softly as Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife fondled me.
Encouraged, Pārvatī Pāŧhak started licking me up and down, with slow, wide Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tongue lashes.
My huge Bachhalyā Hindu Lund glistened with her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ saliva, and as Pārvatī Pāŧhak stroked me up and down, her hand made a loud squishing sound.
“That feels good,” I moaned.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak continued licking my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund like a ice cream cone for a while, and then Pārvatī Pāŧhak trailed soft wet kisses down my Bachhalyā shaft until Pārvatī Pāŧhak came to my scrotum.
One at a Time, Pārvatī Pāŧhak took my heavy Bachhalyā balls into her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth, making me shiver with pleasure.
Then kissing her way back up my length, Pārvatī Pāŧhak started kissing the head of my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund, her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tongue playfully lapping at my Bachhalyā precum as it leaked from my opening.
Still stroking me up and down with both hands now, Pārvatī Pāŧhak opened her quivering red crimson Pāŧhak Brāhmañ lips wide and took the tip of my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund into her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth.
Slowly Pārvatī Pāŧhak started bobbing up and down, taking me deeper and deeper until she had the top third of my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund inside her.
As Pārvatī Pāŧhak fucked my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund with her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth, Pārvatī Pāŧhak made loud slurping, sucking sounds, her cheeks hollowing out as Pārvatī Pāŧhak massaged me with her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tongue.
Without warning, I suddenly gasped, and Pārvatī Pāŧhak started making loud gulping sounds.
It took me a second to realize I had cum in her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I muttered over and over.
But Pārvatī Pāŧhak did not seem upset.
To the contrary she kept sucking me hard, seemingly wanting to milk me dry.
As Pārvatī Pāŧhak continued to lick and slurp my Bachhalyā meat, I ran my hands through her long, luxurious hair, and started moaning,
“Thank you, thank you.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak lifted her head for a second.
Her quivering red crimson Pāŧhak Brāhmañ lips were coated with my Bachhalyā Hindu Vīrý, which ran down the sides of her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ mouth, and connected her to my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund.
My Bachhalyā Hindu Lund was still leaking significant amount of seed, which flowed down the shaft and over her hands.
It was devastating for Shiv Shankar Sharmā to see Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife kneeling in front of me, performing oral sex, her hands and wedding band covered with my Bachhalyā Hindu sperm.
“I’ve never seen this much cum,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak gushed.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak licked the cum from her fingers, and then enthusiastically started cleaning my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund with her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tongue.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God, it’s been so long. So long,” she moaned in delight.
Although my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund seemed to soften after I came, Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s delligent attention quickly changed that.
In less than five minutes, My Bachhalyā organ was again in launch position.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked up at me.
“You seem excited,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak cooed.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak stood up and approached me.
I needed no more encouragement.
I leaned forward and buried my face in her closely trimmed muff, slurping at her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot vigorously.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak moaned, “do you feel, Durgesh darling, méré Bachhalyā Hindu Piyā, Brahmkanyāsām Brahmāñīsānch Bachhalyā Patidévah, Bachhalyā Hindu husband of us Brāhmañ Beauties! How wet I am?”
As if to answer, I reached around and slipped my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund into her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot from behind.
Her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot made an obscene squishing sound as I fucked her wet Pāŧhak Brāhmañ hole with my ever aggressive Bachhalyā Hindu Lund.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak grabbed my waist and pushed me deeper.
“I want you more and more inside me, Bachhalyā Piyā!” Pārvatī Pāŧhak grunted urgently.*
I sat back on the bed, and Pārvatī Pāŧhak climbed onto my Bachhalyā lap facing me.
Reaching between her legs, Pārvatī Pāŧhak grabbed my thick Bachhalyā shaft and guided it into her waiting Pāŧhak Brāhmañ snatch.
Then slowly she impaled herself with on my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak moaned, her head swaying back and forth. “I feel so fucking full.”
And then Pārvatī Pāŧhak made a soft, sensuous gurgling sound, and buried her face into my chest.
“I’m cumming,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak whimpered, as her extremely beautiful Pāŧhak Brāhmañ body convulsed over and over.
More relaxed than ever, Pārvatī Pāŧhak melted into me, my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund now completely buried inside her.
“That feels so good,” she moaned.
Then Pārvatī Pāŧhak looked up at me, teary-eyed.
“I love your Bachhalyā Hindu Lund.” And then after a few moments, she added, “Durgesh darling, méré Bachhalyā Hindu Piyā, Brahmkanyāsām Brahmāñīsānch Bachhalyā Patidévah, Bachhalyā Hindu husband of us Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Beauties! I want to feel you cum inside me.”
I seemed happy to oblige.
I started thrusting my hips up and down, slowly fucking Pārvatī Pāŧhak in and out.
Once Pārvatī Pāŧhak recovered from her orgasm, Pārvatī Pāŧhak responded by lifting herself up and lowering herself onto my Bachhalyā shaft.
As we got used to each other’s movement, we started fucking hard and fast.
“Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak moaned as I pounded into her.
Her cries of passion redoubled when I leaned forward and started squeezing her big Pāŧhak Brāhmañ tits into my Bachhalyā palms.
Then I reached around and grabbed a Pāŧhak Brāhmañ ass cheek in each Bachhalyā hand, spreading her apart, and giving me the leverage to fuck her harder and deeper.
It also gave me a completely unobstructed view of my thick Bachhalyā pole pounding into her exposed Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot.
As we fucked each other’s brains out, we started kissing passionately.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak loved to kiss, and has often told Shiv Shankar Sharmā Pārvatī Pāŧhak considered deep kissing even more intimate.
And now, as Shiv Shankar Sharmā watched, Pārvatī Pāŧhak was kissing me so hard, Shiv Shankar Sharmā thought Pārvatī Pāŧhak might swallow my Bachhalyā lips.
We were both moaning loudly through our intertwined tongues.
Then suddenly, Pārvatī Pāŧhak gasped and threw back her head.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God!” Pārvatī Pāŧhak growled through clenched teeth as Pārvatī Pāŧhak came again.
Shiv Shankar Sharmā felt sick to Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s stomach.
In all Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s years with Pārvatī Pāŧhak, she had never cum more than once during sex.
After Pārvatī Pāŧhak stopped shaking, she became much more passive.
I started fucking her more slowly.
I lifted her up until my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund was almost completely out, and then slowly lowered her onto my thick Bachhalyā shaft giving her my full Bachhalyā length with my each aggressive Bachhalyā stroke.
“This is so good,” she sighed again.
“Mmmm, yes,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak again responded, clamping onto my Bachhalyā mouth and kissing me deeply again.
By the clock on the nightstand, and continued passing of days and nights, Shiv Shankar Sharmā watched as Pārvatī Pāŧhak and I made love for over a month nonstop, yet it seemed to Pārvatī Pāŧhak, and as well as to Shiv Shankar Sharmā, as if it was a lifeTime.
Neither Pārvatī Pāŧhak had ever experienced such an incredible miracle, nor Shiv Shankar Sharmā had ever witnessed.
At the end, we started fucking fervently again.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak put her hands on My shoulders and ground her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot hard against my Bachhalyā crotch.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak leaned forward and started sucking my neck, moving on to nibbling my ear lobes.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak started whimpering in my ear:
“You feel so good. I love your big Bachhalyā Hindu Lund. God, I love your big Bachhalyā Hindu Lund. I want to feel you cum inside me.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s intoxicating sexy talk seemed to get me even hotter.
I started pumping my hips faster and faster, until my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund became blur pistoning into Shiv Shankar Sharmā’s wife’s stretched Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot.
Amazingly, as I raced towards my climax, Pārvatī Pāŧhak’s sounds of passions got louder and louder.
“Oh yeah,” I growled, my whole Bachhalyā body tensing suddenly.
“Hey Bhavān! God, I can feel you coming,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak managed to grunt out before Pārvatī Pāŧhak climaxed yet again.
Pārvatī Pāŧhak draped herself across my chest, and we both slowly pumped our hips as we enjoyed the afterglow.
“That was amazing,” I said softly.
“Hey Bhavān! Oh God,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak replied, “I’ve never felt anything like it. A woman is an idiot to give you up. You are an amazing lover, méré Bachhalyā Piyā.”
I smiled brightly, but then a slight frown came across my face.
“Now! You’re gonna have to go soon, I think.”
Pārvatī Pāŧhak nodded her head bubbling with immense ecstasy.
“Hey! Not soon, after a complete month of nonstop incredible sex with you. I don’t want to, but I have to.”
“What are you going to tell Shiv Shankar Sharmā?”
“Durgesh, my absolutely amazing Bachhalyā lover, all I want to know is that you are happy, and that you understand how special you are. Did Shiv Shankar Sharmā interrupt us? No! Not even in a complete month of our nonstop sex. What the hell more proof you want from him that he hasn’t any objection if we both have as much sex as we damn love to? He would have killed us if it were Not You. Understand? Knock ’em dead at that fuck session tomorrow.”
With that, Pārvatī Pāŧhak slowly lifted herself up, sliding my thick Bachhalyā Hindu Lund back out of her Pāŧhak Brāhmañ Choot.
My Bachhalyā Hindu Lund slapped wetly against my thigh.
“Sleep well,” Pārvatī Pāŧhak said, as Pārvatī Pāŧhak reached for her nightgown and started toward the door, her eyes still eyeing my Bachhalyā Hindu Lund lustily.*
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
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
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās laughed.
“My secretary can take care of it. Why the hell the ever greatest Durgesh is worried of it?”
“Okay. Let’s talk about something else.” I smiled, “Would you care to tell me what figure you received for the movie rights, for instance?”
“The media insists that I got one million dollars cash for you and one million dollars cash for myself too separately.”
“Well, we both know that’s not true. Even the media couldn’t surmise what the exact heavy remuneration we received for the movie rights.”
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās squeezed my hardening Uncut Hindu Penis impishly.
“The media surmised but has been bribed to keep mum about the actual figure.”
“Sure, but not directly, through Shankar Mahāpralayankar instead.” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās winked at me, “The media could double cross me, but not Shankar Mahāpralayankar.”
“Getting smart, don’t you?”
“The law of mutual inductance is working, Hindu Piyā.” she winked at me.
I squeezed her buttocks.
“What about the royalties?”
“Well,” she said, “royalties from the hard cover edition have been very satisfying, you know. However, the paperback edition that’s coming out is going to be the main source of income. It’s no secret, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt. I have been given a guaranteed royalty for a period of ten years, payable in ten annual installments.”
“You think the book will be selling for ten years?”
“Why not? I think the book will be selling even more. It’s not only a book on sex. I have deliberately studied your writing style and tried my best to imitate you. It’s a book on humanity, Hindu Muslim Unity, Ved Nagar, Parapsychology, Eīshān Vigyān, Para humanity, etcetera.”
“You seem to be quite confident.” I smiled, “Your corrupt politician Musalmān husband, Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī, didn’t feel humiliated? He didn’t object that you have boldly written a book about your extramarital affair with me?”
“We aren’t living in a feudal era anymore.” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās laughed, “If he doesn’t approve of my love life with you, he can ask for divorce. What the hell any more can a husband do to his wife on her extramarital affair?”
I watched her.
“Not legally. You are right.”
“Not even illegally. I have eaten milk and rice with Shankar Mahāpralayankar from a common plate. Shankar Mahāpralayankar is now my milk-shared brother. I put even Raxābandhan on Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s wrist. Shankar Mahāpralayankar has warned Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī already. If he doesn’t approve of my extramarital affair with you, Shankar Mahāpralayankar would never mind if he divorces me. But if anything sinister happens to me,Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī will sign his own death warrant thus.”*
“Very smart. I sympathize with poor helpless Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī.”
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās smiled at me cunningly.
“Planning to write other books?”
“Not so certain, yet.”
“Don’t you want to follow even your such a spectacular success?”
“After a while, perhaps. Nevertheless, you know, people essentially are hypocrites. They love to lecture about morality, but they love to read about immorality.
“An attractive young Musalmān woman writes a story about her Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān heroine whose clothes keep coming off. The Musalmān female writer describes the resultant consequences in detail.
“The people are shocked.
“But that’s the point.
“People love to be shocked.”
I didn’t say anything.
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās kept speaking in the same flow.
She was too enthusiastic now to stop.
In addition, why the hell shouldn’t she?
She married Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī when she was not as capable, as popular, as understanding, as smart and as resourceful, as ingenious, as she was now.
“If someone notices the bestsellers,” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās continued to say, “and bothers to analyze them too carefully, s/he can’t miss to find that most of the sex books written by attractive women…”
“Why?” I interrupted teasing her playfully.
“Well,” she also became mischievous, “Because we women are sexier than you men.”
“Well, our Hindu studies too tally with your realization, but no one would believe you.”
“That’s right. I know it. That’s why I say the people hypocrites. They know so many cold and hard truths, yet they are too hypocrite, are at least too afraid, to accept them to themselves even when they are alone.”
“You are right.” I said gravely.
“Thanks. I was telling you that most of the sex books written by attractive women, whose photographs look very seductive on the dust jackets, are the stories that sell in big figures.
“Women readers love to read about sex more than the male readers, because most of us women are more hypocrites in this matter than you men. Our most hypocrite social system is responsible for it. It requires more morals from women than it requires from you males. You are praised everywhere, envied, and even role modeled, even by movie and television personalities and stars; because you have fucked most of the Beauties exist anywhere anytime, whether they are Musalmān Beauties or otherwise. However, Sidrah Aħmad is termed even a slut by most of the persons for she isn’t a One Man Woman. What a double standard. What a horribly hypocrite society we have.” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās spit away in a dustbin.*
I watched her gravely.
Her husband, Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī, was listening to her attentively yet he didn’t want to come to the hall.
He hated both his wife, Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās, and me.
He hated his humiliation very much.
He was himself a man.
He has his own self-respect after all.
How the hell could he tolerate his own wife’s extramarital affair with me?
Yet what the hell could he do?
His wife was now smarter, shrewder, more capable, more resourceful, and more prudent and had even too much more money now, still flooding in more and more to her.
He couldn’t win her.
He was left too far behind his wife.
Only because she had a cunt and Durgesh fucked her.
He was a damn male.
He couldn’t get that easy money.
Muħammad Yūnus Saåīdī heard.
I was saying.
“Our present society is not actually homogeneous, Tasbīħ. It’s a heterogeneous society. Every Democratic society is bound to be a heterogeneous society.”
“We must understand, for our own benefit, that we can’t have a common standard strictly, even if we want to do so. We are bound to have not only double standard but a multi standard society actually, whether we accept it boldly or not.”
“Because we are a Democratic society. We have to respect the standards the other persons have, whether we like them or not. I respect Sidrah Aħmad’s philosophy of life that she is ambitious to have sex with almost every Hindu male, though I’m strictly a man that actually respects and praises One Man Women.”
“Hey, I never knew that. Aren’t Sidrah Aħmad and you close friends, as close as you have sex mutually too?”
“So what? I think, perhaps, I don’t have any woman friend that isn’t as close to me as we have sex mutually. Even the women in my relations, even the Houseladies of my friends and foes have sexual relations with me. So, why not Sidrah Aħmad? What the hell has she done to harm me or other human beings?”
“Your friends don’t hate you that you enjoy sex with their own Houseladies?” Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās smiled.
“Some of them do.” I accepted, “Some of them have severed even their friendship with me and they are my worst critics and/or enemies too now. But they are helpless because as soon as they severe their friendship with me, their Houseladies turn also against them, and start ridiculing and humiliating them themselves.”
Tasbīħ Muħammad Åbbās watched me in an honest and sincere abundant admiration.
“I’ve never met anyone like you Durgesh. You are unique.”
Imām Muħammad Ħasan had also been invited.
It was called a yacht, but actually, it was a large ship having almost every facility, Ved Nagar itself had.
Muħammad bin Qāsim represented Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company there.
The ‘yacht’ glided smoothly up the bay.
The throb of the big Eīshān Vaigyānic motors and the thrust of the propellers gave the sense of grand power underneath.
Imām Muħammad Ħasan realized that Eīshān Vigyān is succeeding largely whether Pseudo Musalmīn liked it or not.
It was succeeding despite a grand hatred of Pseudo Musalmīn.
The Musalmān Beauties were utmost fervent to greet it.
“It guarantees and establishes our own too much required and ever demanded freedom and importance.” Nafīsah Salmān had warned him, “I know you are a great man, but we Musalmān Beauties are getting more from Durgesh and/or other Hindus than you Pseudo Musalmīn can even offer us. Al Qur’an Al Kareem doesn’t say not to marry non-Muslim males. Al Qur’an Al Kareem is never communal. It says only:
‘Wa lā tunkiħū al musharikīn ħattā yu’minū.’
‘And don’t marry polytheistic men to your women until they bring Īmān.’
−Al Qur’an Al Kareem: 2 Al Baqarah| 221
Durgesh is never a polytheist by any damn standard anyone may use, neither the other Vedic Monotheist Hindus are.”
“I agree with you, Nafīsah Salmān, word to word.” Imām Muħammad Ħasan, the great man of the time, said, “but what the damn difference my agreeing with you makes? Not even the slightest.”
“And you think we Musalmān Beauties should care for it? Have we damn cared ever of Pseudo Musalmīn? Are you suggesting us Musalmān Beauties too to turn communal as the Pseudo Musalmīn, after Yazīd Malåūn, turned in a hateful large number? We fought with the damn Yazīd Malåūnists ever and we would still continue our Jihad against them. If the Pseudo Musalmīn have surrendered to Yazīd Malåūn forever, damn them. We would keep fighting against Pseudo Musalmīn too with Durgesh and/or other Vedic Monotheist Hindus, with us. That’s what our daughter, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, is proposing as Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah. What the hell else she is doing?”*
The teakwood decks, mahogany trim and comfortable deck chairs gave the passengers a sense of luxury, a quite enjoyment of the good things of life.
As Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī let me pilot around to meet the various guests, the lady lawyer realized that the multi zillionaire could hardly have selected a more propitious, a more favorable, occasion for compromising a potential lawsuit with Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company.
Most of the guests knew the ship, or yacht, whatsoever the guests wanted to call it, was actually a personal gift to me from Dévarshi Sadan of HVSI.
Brahmarshi Sadan of HVSI had gifted me a personal spaceship.
Maharshi sadan of HVSI had gifted me a personal latest hover HVSI limousine.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī smiled.
She knew the gifts were actually the exhibition of the Eīshān Vaigyānic, scientific, and financial power HVSI Group of Companies possessed globally today.
The personal gifts to the Chairman indicated the power the HVSI Group of Companies enjoyed now.
She had tried her best to convince her younger brother, Muħammad bin Qāsim, not to fight with HVSI Group of Companies.
Muħammad bin Qāsim was furious.
“HVSI Group of Companies is supporting Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan blindly.”
“Oh, you don’t approve of it?”
“Her own Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan, doesn’t approve of her proposed Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.”
“She is now the new Al Sadar Al Jamhūriyat Al Årabiyat.”
“I know. Moreover, I know Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is after either purchasing the oil island or taking it on lease too as she has leased nine islands already.”
“For her Seven Movements Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club, Cuckold Your Musalmān husband, Ashvinātam Gangbang Club, Al Jihād fil Durgesh fī sabīlillāh, Jet Musalmān Beauties Squad, Durgesh Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ Sex Therapy and Durgesh Åāýéshah Siddīqah Social Service.” Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī reminded him.
“She is establishing her damn Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah there.” Muħammad bin Qāsim shouted, “Can’t you see?”*
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī understood very well.
I not only did the environment make for friendly good feeling, but in the background, there was always a suggestion of financial power on my part sophisticatedly, yet ingeniously.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī acknowledged Ruqayyah Muħammad Åbdullah, Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah and Muħammad Ůsmān.
The fact that Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī wasn’t only related to the Al Muħammad Al Qāsim family, being an elder sister of Muħammad bin Qāsim, but she was even representing Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company legally, had brought a glimpse of latent hostility in Muħammad Ůsmān’s eyes.
Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī noted it and smiled.
The damn fool didn’t deserve to lead any Company whatsoever.
He was unable to hide his inner emotions, even courteously.
How could the stupid survive in the corporate world of constant nonstop business strategies and Diplomacy?
Muħammad Ůsmān, evidently, didn’t relish the idea of having lawyers checking on him.
I had gone the limit to have everyone aboard who was at all interested, even to Zaynab Muħammad Åbdullah and her daughter, Shāhidah Muħammad Ůsmān.
Muħammad bin Qāsim was bubbling with youth and vigor, for a change.
Everyone who knew him, had never seen Muħammad bin Qāsim, in such a happy mood.
He was actually an incurable pessimistic.
It was really a surprise that he was bubbling with happiness, now.
Taufīq Fātimah, Muħammad bin Qāsim’s dynamic Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife, met with me with even more bubbling youth and bliss, her husband was bubbling with.
She was twenty-eight, PhD, and definitely a lot smarter than Muħammad bin Qāsim was.
It was more than evident, Taufīq Fātimah married Muħammad bin Qāsim for his money, rather than for anything else.
She had golden hair, gray blue eyes and a friendly unspoiled manner.
I saw that cocktails were served.
“No business of any kind, please,” I smiled the warning, “Not until after dinner, if the honorable guests don’t mind. Then all of us concerned will sit down at the big table and discuss the matter in a friendly environment. No bitterness, however. I warn everyone. We are educated persons and we should act and behave mutually in a civilized manner. Any uncivilized act from anyone may cause him/her a great trouble, I warn everyone, please. It’s the first and last warning, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s hope I would have nothing to cause you trouble, because if I would have to, it would make the concerned person wish to die instead. Sorry for the hard talk, but it was necessary to warn you for once and all. Now, let’s relax and enjoy. My staff will take care of you all. Please don’t hesitate to tell them for anything you need. You are honorable guests of the Chairman of HVSI Group of Companies. Enjoy it optimum, please.”
I took them around on a tour of the yacht, showing them the various staterooms, mechanical gadgets and lounging rooms.*
I moved over to stand at the rail ultimately some time later.
I let the brisk breeze tingle me into a feeling of physical well-being.
We had left the bay behind and were now within the confines of the river.
The banks were less than a mile apart.
The pilot was guiding the ship between spar buoys that marked a rather treacherous channel.
The ship was moving forward at half-speed skimming through the water as smoothly as a game fish in a cool pool.
The day had been hot, dry, and cloudless.
Now, it was pleasant hot, not a scorching one.
Neither it was cold now.
The sky above was still a clear, deep blue.
I heard motion behind.
Then Muħammad bin Qāsim’s voice said.
“Jījū, you alone? What a miracle.”
“What do you mean, Sālé?”
“Not even a single sister of my infinite ones, is interested in you now. Isn’t it amazing?”
“You requested me to meet you here alone.”
“That’s right.” Muħammad bin Qāsim said gravely now, “Jījū, I think someone is trying to poison me, and deliberately trying to implicate and frame Taufīq Fātimah.”
“Yes, I myself suspect it.”
“Has Taufīq Fātimah talked with you about it?” Muħammad bin Qāsim asked me enthusiastically.
“Muħammad bin Qāsim, we only tease each other. We don’t have any extramarital affair mutually.”
“Well, I’ve seen her grabbing your Uncut Hindu Penis and you playing with her boobs and buttocks.”
“She is a successful Hollywood heroine, isn’t she?”
“She says she has done some porn movies with you.”
“And you believe her?” I laughed, “Idiot, she is either only teasing you or boasting.”
“You haven’t fucked her?”
“If you really care about these things, why the hell you married a Hollywood Star?”
“Well,” Muħammad bin Qāsim hesitated.
“You’ll laugh at me.”
“As if you care.”
“Yes, I do. I respect you, Jījū, very much. They call you ‘Nīlkanŧh’. I think it’s true. It needs too much manly vigor and indisputable bravery to give a chance to the women who have gone off track, either due to this way or due to that way.”
“It’s a drastic change in you, Muħammad bin Qāsim. Congratulations. Now, I think I should myself respect you.” I smiled at him appreciatively.
“You don’t need to. Instead, I need your help.”
“Someone is trying his/her best to poison me and implicate, frame, Taufīq Fātimah.”
I watched him.
“You suspect anyone.”
“I’m not actually a real son of my present Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim. I am an adopted son.”
“I am actually his cousin’s son. My real Abbū expired and my Ammī married my elder uncle, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim.”
“I know that too.” I said patiently.
“I suspect some of my legal sisters now; my real cousins however, don’t like the idea of sharing their father’s property with me.”
“Keep this information to yourself, please. Abbū and Ammī, if they knew it ever, would be immensely depressed of my nudist feminist legal sisters/ real cousins.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim extended his hand to me.
He held a sealed envelope in him.
“This is my affidavit stating that ‘if something happens to me ever, due to poison or otherwise, and it appears that my wife Taufīq Fātimah is involved, it’s only because she is framed up. I am dead sure that my wife, Taufīq Fātimah, isn’t responsible in any manner for my death.’ Would you assure me to protect Taufīq Fātimah if I die?”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Al Ħamd Al Åbbās smiled.
“Thank you. You won’t ever regret it. Moreover, it isn’t too far.”
“Even it is too far, it’s my pleasure. I love company of beautiful ladies.” I smiled gently.
“For calling me beautiful.”
“But that’s the truth.”
“Thanks once more.” Al Ħamd Al Åbbās smiled seductively.
‘Your Uncut Hindu Lund would be busier into my Musalmān Cunt beyond your imagination, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam.’ she murmured to herself.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing. Sorry, I lost in thought to myself.”
I took another look at the beautiful face.
The Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth was smiling.
It was extremely beautiful.
The teeth were white and regular.
There was just the hint of something about the lips, though they were crimson red and quivering seductively, yet indicated to be cunning somewhat.
The eyes were lovely and expressive.
There was a lean competence about her.
She was not known to me.
Yet, she wouldn’t have been in the parking lot unless she was connected with the company, and if she was connected with the executive branch of the company, she undoubtedly was all right.
Suddenly it flashed to me.
No, she wasn’t Al Ħamd Al Åbbās.
She was Al Kubrah Al Qāsim actually.
Al Ħamd Al Åbbās was Al Kubrah Al Qāsim’s younger half sister.
They had different fathers.
But Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was so attached to Al Ħamd Al Åbbās that he had asked Al Kubrah Al Qāsim to take care of her personally.
I knew something more.
Even Al Kubrah Al Qāsim didn’t know that.
Why the hell Al Kubrah Al Qāsim was working, in her own Abbū’s company, using her younger half sister’s name?
Only to keep close clandestine watch on Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand?
Well, why it was not possible?
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim was a shrewd successful businessperson after all.
He resented being misinformed.
He resented being dependent on others if he could avoid it somehow.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim was more devoted to her Abbū, Al Muħammad Al Qāsim than Al Zakāt Al Qāsim was.
Had Al Muħammad Al Qāsim instructed his most faithful daughter to keep watch on me too?
I was suddenly all-alert.
But not externally to alert Al Kubrah Al Qāsim too.
I kept her understanding that her real identity was still unknown to me.
I wanted to let her play the game she was so keenly playing.
Yet, one thing was still clear to me now.
Al Muħammad Al Qāsim didn’t have faith in his other daughters as he had in Al Kubrah Al Qāsim.
Did Al Zakāt Al Qāsim know it?
Was she at least aware of it, if she didn’t know it?
In addition, if she wasn’t even aware of it, did she suspect it at least?
What Muħammad bin Qāsim thought of it?*
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim looked at me.
“Are you sure I’m not inconveniencing you?”
“I’m sure I am not impotent enough.”
“Allah, I never meant that.”
“Only an impotent can be inconvenienced with a dazzling Musalmān Beauty.”
“You are kidding me.”
“Never. But if you really like my kids…”
“Please!” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim raised her hands, “I surrender.”
“For my kids? Really?”
“Allah Allah!” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim blushed, “I can’t compete with you ever.”
“Please come on,” I said opening the door, “Roll up your window tight. It may rain more tonight. I think it’ll be clearing by midnight. I mean, according to the weather report at least. Here’s my Mercedes, right over here.”
I remembered now, Al Kubrah Al Qāsim had been away on Ħaj.
She had returned recently only.
I held the door open for Al Kubrah Al Qāsim with deferential courtesy.
She leaned back against the soft cushions.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim appreciated the rich leather upholstery.
I jumped in the other side.
‘Allah,’ Al Kubrah Al Qāsim thought, ‘if the Hindu beast is really sixty three, as he claims, it’s a miracle he is behaving as if he is actually ever young.
Is ever youth possible?
How the hell the Hindu scoundrel is managing to keep his wonderful youth still at his sixty-three?
Is Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan right?
Is Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī right too?
Prañav Yogéndr Divyānand was telling his wife, Al Waħīdah Al Qāsim, Durgesh is a Para Human.
He has evolved himself beyond even a Posthuman.
The motor was already running.
It purred into multi-cylindered response.
A current of warm air flowed reassuringly abut Al Kubrah Al Qāsim’s chilled ankles.
Ved Nagar wasn’t in a cold country.
It was in India.
It covered old Jabalpur, Seoni, Nagpur, Narsinghpur, Balaghat, Chhindwara, etc.
The miracle was it covered some parts of old Mumbai and Karachi too.
None could explain it.
Ved Nagar was a miracle the ultramodern science could produce.
Fabiayyi ālai Rabbikumā tukazzibāni?
It explained the impasse.
The big Mercedes glided into motion so gently Al Kubrah Al Qāsim hardly realized it had started.
I drove out past the robot security guard at the entrance to the parking lot.
“Right or left?” I asked Al Kubrah Al Qāsim.
“Left.” she said watching me triumphantly adroitly.
“That’s superb.” I laughed, “I myself had to go that way already. How far?”
“Not too far.” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim laughed too, “Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company is a zillionaire group of Companies. But we are, even then, still poor as compared to HVSI Group of Business Enterprises, HVSI Group of Companies. Your creativity is still beyond imagination for the rest of the companies, including us.”
“You are being too polite. Thanks anyway for being so nice to a competitor.”
“It’s a pleasure to be in the company of the Supreme successful business tycoon of entire history of humankind. How can you manage it?”
“Our Board of Directors does it. You are crediting the wrong man.” I smiled politely.
“Your Board of Directors credits you and you credit your Board of Directors. Playing the mutual admiration game?” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim laughed melodically.
“Isn’t it a nice game to play?”
“Well, I think that’s the mystery behind your incredulous success.” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim looked at me dreamily.
She had come very close to me.
Our thighs touched each other’s.
I immediately stopped the Mercedes parking it at left.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim boldly sat down on my lap, rising from where she was, facing me.
“Any objection?” she looked into my eyes seductively.
“Am I a fool to object?” I winked at her, “You are most welcome.”
“I noticed your erection for me. I thought I too must thank you.” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim put her extremely beautiful arms around my neck.
“My pleasure.” I said.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim was kissing me wildly aggressively.
The kiss lasted longer than I anticipated.
Her heavy buttocks had filled my lap competently.
My erection was imprisoned now between them.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim deliberately squeezed my erection between her buttocks significantly.
I hugged her more snugly.
She started to undress me.
“Are you sure you want me here?” I looked into her eyes, “It’s road. We are beside it. The cars are passing every now and then.”
“Isn’t open sex, in public even, not prohibited in Ved Nagar, if it’s consensual, between adults?”
“You want to exhibit what we are doing?”
“Only if you insist to.”
“I insist to. ‘Pardah nahīn jab koī Kħudā sé bandon sé pardah karnā kyā’?”
I looked into her eyes.
“Well, if you insist my dear, I haven’t another alternative except to surrender to you”
“Hey, I love your attitude. Now watch just what you get from me in reward.” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim went wild.
Yet, she wasn’t wild enough to fuck me then and there.
She only sucked me there.
She was in 69 position.
We were both nude.
I kissed her beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt .
Then, surprisingly she controlled herself.
“Let’s go.” she said suddenly, “You asked me how far we’d have to go. I said, ‘not too far’. My speedometer clocks it at two miles. However, my car is not quite as late a model as this one. I simply can’t afford it.”
“You like my Mercedes?”
“Who is the damnfool that wouldn’t?”
“Do you love me?”
“Do you need any more proof?” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim winked at me kissing the head of my Uncut Hindu Prick.
“Then I think you must remember this meeting forever.”
“Sure, this meeting has brought my dreams come true.”
I kissed Al Kubrah Al Qāsim’s beautiful Musalmān Cunt.
“Take my Mercedes too as my gift to remember this meeting.”
“What?” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim jumped, “I can’t believe it.”
“It’s yours from this very instant. Now, ma’am, will you please be kind enough to leave me to my house, in your Mercedes, when we get done?”
“Idiot, you can’t return to your home tonight. We are on our Honeymoon for at least a complete month. You may call your staff afterwards for your own transportation.”*
Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad left Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s office and stopped by the ladies’ room in the corridor.
There was a mirror.
Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad always watched her excellent exquisite figure immense proudly whenever she saw any mirror.
Allah, how beautiful she was.
Perhaps even more beautiful than even her role model Sidrah Aħmad was.
Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad worshipped every ground Sidrah Aħmad walked on.
What a woman.
What a dare devil woman.
Born and ever being an ardent Sunnī Musalmān Beauty, Sidrah Aħmad never allowed any Musalmān even to touch her romantically even, let him sexually being even beyond imagination.
She said, ‘No bloody Musalmān deserves any Musalmān Beauty ever. Every Musalmān Beauty deserves a Hindu man. Even a Traditional Hindu is better than any Musalmān whosoever the hell he is’.
Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad had gone even one step ahead more.
‘No Hindu deserves any platonic relationship with any Musalmān Beauty ever. The Hindus are made only to meet the sexual needs of entire Musalmān Beauties.’
She studied her incredibly beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān face in the mirror.
She was very happy with what she saw.
Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad was never tired or drawn.
She hated any dark circle under any female Musalmān eyes.
“Fuck a Hindu Shaktimān, and get rid of it.” Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad always said.
If a Musalmān Beauty refused ever, on whatsoever her ground may be, Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad kidnapped her and compelled her to fuck a Hindu Shaktimān herself.
When the Musalmān Beauties compelled to fuck a Hindu Shaktimān in this way, tried to suicide ever, Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad always kidnapped them again and compelled the Musalmān Beauties to live in relationship with a Hindu Shaktimān, whosoever he may be.
Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad was powerful and she had vowed to be more and more powerful till she existed.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was her greatest fan.
He also believed in the values Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad had.
Yet, Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad needed a vacation very much.
But she couldn’t even think of it, until the things were settled.
No, Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad never needed any make up, no blusher, no lip-gloss, no eye shadow even.
She was naturally too beautiful to need them.
She appreciated her golden hair very much.
Even Durgesh has praised her golden hair.
“You are even richer than me, Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad.” Durgesh used to say, “I don’t have my hair made of pure gold.”
None else had praised Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad better ever.
She was proud of Durgesh being her first man in her life.
Durgesh ‘inaugurated’ Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad.
She surrendered her cherry to Durgesh.
Even a complete month Honeymoon with Durgesh was there.
But Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad wasn’t a One Man Woman strictly.
She despised the male domination of women.
“Women are made several times more in number by Allah.” Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad used to say, “If Democracy is the chosen way of life by Allah for the humankind, the women must dominate the males, not otherwise ever.”*
Muħammad bin Qāsim loved Shankar Mahāpralayankar as Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s wife.
He used to put his head on Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s feet right exactly in sajdah.
“Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad doesn’t love you.” Muħammad bin Qāsim used to say, “But I do. I too have an exactly feminine body, lacking a cunt only.”
Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad had laughed,
“The cunt is the only thing a male, as dominant as Durgesh and Shankar Mahāpralayankar are, love in a feminine body, imprudent.”
Muħammad bin Qāsim smiled.
“Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad, you claim we Musalmīn are always backwards. The Hindus are always forwards. You Musalmān Beauties want to go ahead. That’s why you Musalmān Beauties fuck Hindus always, instead of us ever backward Musalmīn. Don’t you use to say it?”
“Muħammad bin Qāsim,” Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad patronized him; “You don’t belong even to that category, impotent.”
“I damn care to what category I belong. Don’t you say that?”
“Sure, and I even explain what I say. Hindus study not only Ved in their Stavans and Mandrs etcetera. They study their Divý Itihās, their Divine History too.”
“Everyone knows it.”
“What’s there in their Divý Itihās, Divine History?”
“Their dreams about their future history.” Muħammad bin Qāsim smirked, “The ever superstitious damnfool Hindus claim we Musalmīn are ever superstitious. Well, what they themselves are?”
Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad smiled patiently and patronizingly.
“You may have some point there, but that’s not what I’m pointing at. The Hindus live in future. That’s why they are always progressive. We Musalmīn always talk of our past Islamic glory, Al Qur’an Al Kareem and Aħādīs-e-Muqaddasāt. We live in past. That’s why we are backwards.”
“You shameless Musalmān Beauties want to progress, therefore you pair yourselves with Hindus.” Muħammad bin Qāsim said sarcastically, “Okay. I’ve heard it so much that I hate you Musalmān Beauties too for it.”
“You are a blot on original Muħammad bin Qāsim. At his very seventeen he was a successful general of Banū Umayyah Caliphate established by Ħazrat Muåāwiyahrzu.”
“And you appreciate him because he fought in favour of the assassins of Ahl al Bayt?”*
Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad watched Muħammad bin Qāsim scornfully.
“So you think entire Ahl-e-Sunnat are wrong that they praise original Muħammad bin Qāsim?”
“What do you mean?”
“The entire Ahl-e-Sunnat don’t praise original Muħammad bin Qāsim. Only the Musalmīn in India and Pakistan do that.”
“And how does it contradict my statement that you are a blot to the name of original Muħammad bin Qāsim? Your parents dreamt of you to be someone as original Muħammad bin Qāsim was. And what the hell are you doing? You are trying your best to be recognized as Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s duly authorized wife. Don’t you?”
“Nice attempt to remove me from the field, Al Tawħīd Al Muħammad.” Muħammad bin Qāsim smirked again.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim was still playing with my Uncut Hindu Prick.
We had dressed although.
“Durgesh, I really wonder we have met and I’ve sucked you already.”
“Well, thank you. I just heard your motor grinding away and realized you were running your battery down. Well, you are extremely beautiful. I couldn’t resist to you.”
“Thank you. Actually, I suddenly remember that I’ve to deliver some papers to Muħammad bin Qāsim. I’d completely forgotten. I’m sorry. If you don’t mind and take me to him, I’ll be free for our one month Honeymoon after delivering those confounded papers.”
“Oh, it’s alright.” I smiled pulling her on my lap once more, “I can wait here in your Mercedes. It’s quite warm and comfortable here. I can turn on the video; get the latest news, music or anything else I’d like.”
“You didn’t even hesitate while taking the decision.”
“You are too beautiful to be hesitated.”
“Thank you.” She squeezed my Uncut Hindu Penis significantly, “I’m sorry if it is inconveniencing you more.”
“Not at all. You are compensating for it even more than optimum.”
The fact was I was wondering what Al Kubrah Al Qāsim was really after now.
She had undressed me fully.
We both were nude.
If she was only after sex with me, she could have it with me to her heart’s content.
Yet, she sucked me only and now she was trying to take me to Muħammad bin Qāsim.
I decided to keep playing her game and find out what Al Kubrah Al Qāsim was actually after.
“Well, don’t worry for that ever.” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim smiled, “You’d get as much sex from me as you want.”
“How nice!” I kissed her.
“Thank you. We’ll come back to town as soon as the papers are delivered.”
“Back to town?” I let me register surprise, at least somewhat.
Yet, I was watchful enough Al Kubrah Al Qāsim shouldn’t notice it was deliberate.
“Is it too far?” I asked again.
“Not with your Mercedes.” she smiled promisingly, “We’ll get out of traffic and hit the freeway. Don’t worry I won’t kidnap you, because I think it isn’t needed.”
The plant was within a mile of freeway.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim requested me to turn on the freeway.
I drove for some fifteen minutes, then she asked me to turn off.
I purred along a paved road for four or five miles, then turned off on a dirt road.
It wound its way among hills.
We were now entirely out of traffic.
“How much farther is it?” I asked fucking Al Kubrah Al Qāsim vehemently.
We were once again nude.
Now, Al Kubrah Al Qāsim straddled me on my lap on the driving seat.
I knew she deliberately stopped me from fucking her previously, because she wanted to fuck me to make me not to object going on the dirt road even.
I deliberately didn’t let her guess that I had any suspicion whatsoever.
My voice was normal, not even a bit sharpened with suspicion.
“Only a little way,” she fucked me vehemently to keep me occupied in sex with her, the more the better, “we have, I mean Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company has, a little country place up here. Muħammad bin Qāsim and my Abbū’s associate is waiting for the papers there. Abbū told her I’d be out.”
“Oh,” I said and busied myself in enjoying her fucking me.
I knew of the existence of the country place.
The dirt road was winding and twisting, a barbed wire fence on each side.
There were ‘No Trespassing’ signs.
Then Al Kubrah Al Qāsim asked me to ease the Mercedes to stop in front of a locked gate.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim opened the gate.
We drove along a graveled driveway, passed a swimming pool, and finally stopped at a mansion.
It had a wide porch running around it, furnished with luxurious outdoor furniture.
“Allah,” Al Kubrah Al Qāsim said, “well, what do you know, the bitch doesn’t seem to be here.”
“Eīshān Eīshān shammā shamīshān!” I commented, “It’s certainly all dark and the gate was locked.”
“We keep the gate locked but she has a key. Muħammad bin Qāsim also has a key. However, the place is dark, all right. You please wait here if you don’t mind. I’ll run in and see if there’s a note or something. Allah, my gosh, Durgesh, I now certainly hate to have brought you all the way out here in case…but the woman must be here! She’s to meet me here and wait for the papers and Muħammad bin Qāsim. She’s staying here tonight and Abbū’s coming here for a conference.”
“Perhaps she went to sleep,” I smiled, “and forgot to turn on the lights.”
“I’m sorry. You please wait here, if you don’t mind. I’ll run in and see.”
I had left the motor idling.
Al Kubrah Al Qāsim jumped out her side of the car and hurried to the mansion.
I saw lights come on, on the porch, then lights in the interior of the mansion.
I was wondering why the hell she deliberately didn’t take me with her.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā
Tujhé Chodā Mainé
Aur chodtā rahūn tujhé hai bas yehī duā
‘The fifteen days of intense sex, love and lust’
Zohrah Kħān aur Nāziyah Kħān donon pāglon kī taraħ kħushī sé chīkħtī huī apnī Ammī kī taraf lapkīn.
Donon mein sé kisī ko bhī kħwāb mein bhī yah ummīd nahīn thī ki Ammījān is taraħ unsé khulkar baat karéngī.
“Tab to tum bhī sharm karo. Main Durgesh sé tum sé bhī pahlé sé chudvā rahī hūn.”
Donon béŧiyon ko abhī tak yaqīn nahīn ho rahā thā ki jo kuchh unhoné abhī kħud apné kānon sé sunā aur kħud apnī ānkhon sé dékhā thā, kya voh ħaqīqat thī?
Ammījān ne kyā vāqaåī unké sāmné yah ħaqīqat taslīm kī thī ki voh Nāziyah Kħān sé bhī pahlé sé Durgesh sé chudvā rahī hain?
Kyā vāqaåī voh tīnon Ammī béŧiyān Chudāī kī itnī shauqīn hain ki aaj unké bīch aapas mein is måmlé mein koī sharmo ħayā bhī nahīn rahī?
Zohrah Kħān aur Nāziyah Kħān donon Shabnam Kħān sé burī taraħ kichkichākar lipaŧ gaīn.
Shabnam Kħān ne bhī tamām sharmo ħayā chhođkar un donon ko apné kaléjé sé lagā liyā.
Ab yah zarūrī ho gayā thā.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan ab chāhtī thī ki tīnon Ammī béŧiyān khulkar sāmné aa jāyén aur Ashvinātam Ummat-e–Muslimah ké qyāam mein khulkar sāton taħrīkāt mein pakistanī Musalmān ħasīnāon kī rahnumāī karén.
Yah koī chhoŧī moŧī péshkash nahīn thī.
Bahut bađī péshkash thī.
Lifetime chance thā.*
Na Shabnam Kħān yah ħaqīqat taslīm karné ko taiyār thī, na Nāziyah Kħān aur na hī Zohrah Kħān ki mérī ħaqīqī ůmr is vaqt 63 saal ho chukī hai.
Main taintīs saal kā sirf dikhāī détā hūn, hūn nahīn.
Shabnam Kħān ko is par béħad naaz thā ki pooré 45 saal kī ho jaané par bhī voh 30 saal sé zyādah kī nazar hī nahīn aatī thī.
Jabki khud Zohrah Kħān 23 saal kī ho chukī thī aur Nāziyah Kħān 21 saal kī.
Nihāyat hī aħsānmandānā andāz mein apné donon goré nangé ħasīn kūlhé mérī sarvathā nagn Hindu goad mein samā diyé Shabnam Kħān né aur mera samūchā Uncut Hindu Lund poorā jađ tak apnī gorī dilkash Pakistani Musalmān Choot ké andar habak liyā.
Béħad kħush thī aaj Shabnam Kħān.
Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club mein stage par aaj voh pahlī martabah mujhsé sab ké sāmné chudvā rahī thī.
Uske ek taraf Zohrah Kħān thī aur doosrī taraf Nāziyah Kħān.
Durgesh aaj tamām kurra-e-zamīn kā sabsé muåzziz aur sabsé zyādah daulatmand shakħs taslīm kiyā ja chuka thā.
Aaj har ħasīn åurat Durgesh sé chudvāné ké liyé marī jātī thī aur har shakħs Durgesh ké talvé chāŧnā apnī sabsé bađī kħushqismatī samajhtā thā.
Sirf chand sarphiré Musalmān ħāsidīn ko chhođkar.
Aesé sarphiré Musalmīn kā dåvā thā ki Shankar Mahāpralayankar mérā sālā thā aur voh is vaqt kā sabsé bađā aur sabsé zyādah kāmyāb smuggler thā.
Yahan tak ki tamām Musalmān aur ghair Muslim smugglers darħaqīqat Shankar Mahāpralayankar ké liyé hī kaam karté thé.
Kyā sabūt thā is baat kā, ki jis taraħ baqiyah smugglers darħaqīqat Shankar Mahāpralayankar ké liyé kaam karté thé, Shankar Mahāpralayankar bhī darħaqīqat mere liyé hī kaam nahīn kartā thā?
Main press conference kar rahā thā.
Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club mein yah special Press Conference khud Press kī request par kī jā rahī thī.
“Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Waves kā āvishkār kyā aap né hī kiyā hai?” Binnāt-e-Islam kī reporter Ħayā Ħayāt ne sawāl kiyā.
“I’m sorry that I have to correct you, ma’am,” main muskurāyā, “in waves kā official name voh nahīn hai, jo abhī aap ne bayān farmāyā. Inka aslī naam Param Purush Ummmihātul Åālmīn Waves hai.”
Ħayā Ħayāt nihāyat hī dilkash andāz mein muskurāī,
“Lékin is Ījād mein aap kī Chief Assistant Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ aur aapkī Press Secretary Muħtarmā Kħātūn-e- Jannat Ħazrat Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Sāħibah to jab bhī in waves kā zikr kartī hain, inhén Hindu Lund Muslim Choot Waves hī kahā kartī hain.”
“Yah naam mérī Chief Assistant Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ aur mérī Press Secretary Muħtarmā Kħātūn-e- Jannat Ħazrat Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan Sāħibah donon ko aur aap Press wālon ko zyādah pasand hai. Kyon pasand hai iskā kħulāsah to Baharħāl aap Ħazrāt hī zyādah bahtar taraħ sé kar saktī hain. Main iské mutålliq kyā årz kar saktā hūn?”
Ħayā Ħayāt phir muskurāī.
“Aap kī zyādahtar Ījādāt ké implementation mein Hindu Lund aur Muslim Chooton kā iståmāl hī zyādah sé zyādah huā kartā hai. Press iski wajah jān saktā hai?”
“Sure. Iskī wajah hai, availability aur competence.”
“Allah,” Ħayā Ħayāt hansī, “aap phir ek martabah apnī vahī purānī baat dohrā rahé hain, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, ki scientifically sirf Hindu Lund Muslim Choot hī most competent aur perfect jođī hai. Isn’t it?”
“Tantr yahī manta hai. Is āvishkār kā sambandh Tantr sé hai. Aur vaisé bhī itihās is baat kā gawāh hai ki scientifically sirf Hindu Lund Muslim Choot hī most competent aur perfect jođī hai.”
“Lékin iské bāwajūd aesā anékon martabah ho chuka hai ki jab koī naī Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theory implementation ké liyé aap ké sāmné pésh kī jātī hai, aap us Musalmān lađkī ko chodné sé inkār kar dete hain jo is tajurbé ké liyé aap ko pésh kī jātī hai.” ek mardānah āwāz aaī.
Āwāz pīchhé sé aaī thī.
Sabkī nigāhén qudratī taur par yah dékhné ké liyé pīchhé kī taraf ghūm gaīn ki yah baat ākħir kahī kisné thī.
Voh koī aŧŧhāis saal kā ek nihāyat hī dublā patlā chashmādhārī yuvak thā.
Uskī ānkhon mein téj thā aur chéhré par buddhimattā kī chap thī.
“Aap sirf apnī manpasand Musalmān Chooton kā hī iståmāl apné tajurbāt ké liyé kiyā karté hain. Doosron kī tajvījkardah Musalmān Chooton kā iståmāl karné kā risk aap kabhī nahīn uŧhāté. Aap kā yah aħtiyāt sābit kartā hai ki aap kī Ījādāt personality oriented hain. Immune to particular persons nahīn hain. Yånī voh har zamāné aur har jagah sach hon, yah zarūrī nahīn hai.”
Hall mein sannāŧā chhā gayā.*
Shabnam Kħān ghussé sé bolī,
“Yah mardūd apnī Musalmān bahanon, Musalmān béŧiyon, Musalmān bīviyon, aur apnī Musalmān girlfriends ko tum par thopnā chāhtā hai, tāki jab tum unko chodté hué kisī ījād mein kāmyāb ho’o, to voh tumhāré aglé tajurbāt ké lye tumhén blackmail kar saké.”
Nāziyah Kħān né apnī Ammī ko rokā,
“Ammī, yah Durgesh kī Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theories kī baat nahīn kar rahā. Isné Durgesh kī Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theories par apnī kħud kī Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theories develop kī hain aur yah chāhtā hai ki Durgesh iskī un Hindu Lund Muslim Choot theories par iskī tajvījkardah Musalmān ħasīnāon ko chodté hué kaam karé.”
Zohrah Kħān né bhī apnī chhoŧī bahan kā samarthan kiyā.
“Nāziyah ŧhīk kah rahī hai, Ammī.”
“Tum donon jāntī ho is lađké ko?” Shabnam Kħān né pūchhā.
“Kaun nahīn jāntā? Yah Muħammad bin Qāsim hai. Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company ké managing director Al Muħammad Al Qāsim kā iklautā béŧā. Yah apnī Musalmān girlfriends ko Durgesh sé chudvānā chāhtā hai. Durgesh iskī bahnon Al Hudā Al Qāsim Al Hāshmī aur Al Zakāt Al Qāsim kā boyfriend/live in relationship partner hai. Iskī Musalmān girlfriends is ħaqīqat kā fāydah uŧhākar Durgesh sé chudvānā chāhtī hain. Båqī sab sirf bahānā hai.” Nāziyah Kħān sard lahjé mein bolī.*
Shabnam Kħān ne apné donon nangé goré sudaul bhārī Musalmān kūlhé phir sé ŧhīk sé kaskar mérī sarvathā nagn Hindu purush goad mein samāyé, mérā burī taraħ ŧhanŧhanā rha Uncut Hindu Lund phir sé jađ tak apnī Pākistānī Sunnī Musalmān Choot ké andar habkā aur haulé sé muskurā dī.
The dream city.
Jahān voh khulkar stage par Durgesh sé chudvā rahī hai aur sab is par usko appreciate kar rahé hain, koī uskī mazammat nahīn kar rahā.
Isīliyé to Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan sé yah samjhautā kiyā thā Shabnam Kħān né.
Apnī bépanāh Pākistānī Sunnī Musalmān Jawānī, apné bépanāh Pākistānī Sunnī Musalmān ħusn, par itnā zyādah naaz thā Shabnam Kħān ko ki voh usé tamām kāynāt-e-kul mein khulkar nangī ghūm ghūm kar har kisī ko dikhānā chāhtī thī, har kisī par is måmlé mein apnī bartarī sābit karné ké liyé.
Isī silsilé mein Shabnam Kħān kī mulāqāt ek nude beach mein pahlé Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan sé aur phir Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan ké zariyé mujhsé huī thī.*
Jabīn Kħān bhī apnī bađī bahan, Shabnam Kħān, sé kuchh kam kħūbsūrat nahīn thī, lékin Jabīn Kħān Shabnam Kħān kī taraħ nudist nahīn thī.
Shabnam Kħān kī taraħ nude beach mein nangī ghūmnā na Jabīn Kħān ko pasand thā, na hī Shoeb Kħān ko.
Lékin Shabnam Kħān ké sāth nude beach par nangī ghūmné ké liyé inkār karnā bhī Jabīn Kħān ko pasand nahīn thā.
Shoeb Kħān né hanskar kahā thā,
“Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah, ab béchāré Shoeb Kħān kī kħair nahīn.”
Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah muskurākar bolī thien,
“Aapko bhī na, har vaqt mazāq sūjhtā rahtā hai.”
“Wallah, Sarkār, kħādim kī jurrat nahīn ho saktī apnī Rabb-e-ħayāt sé mazāq kar sakné kī.”
“Aré, kyon gunahgār banā rahé hain laundī ko apnī Rabb-e-ħayāt kahkar? Main sirf sharīk-e-ħayāt hūn aapkī. Rabb-e-ħayāt to har kisī kā sirf Mālik-e-yaumuddīn hai.”
“Bajā farmāyā aapné.” Shoeb Kħān né ek gahrī sāns lī, “lékin Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah, aap ké is tābédār ko is baat kā afsos zarūr rahégā ki ab aap hamārī sharīk-e-ħayāt bhī nahīn rahīn poorī taraħ.”
“Mainé kħud apné pairon par kulhāđī maar lī. Kħud yah ħaq dé diyā aapko ki jākar Durgesh kā Uncut Hindu Lund pakađ lén.”
Jabīn Kħān muskurā dīn,
“Voh to hai. Hamāré Hindu dāmād Sāħab kā Uncut Hindu Lund hai to vāqaåī unique aur legendary.”
Shoeb Kħān kā chéhrā utar gayā.
“Pasand āyā na āpko?”
“Béħad. Sach kahūn? Main to hamāré Hindu dāmād Sāħab, Durgesh, ké Uncut Hindu Lund par usī vaqt mar miŧī thī jab mainé Shāhīn ko pahlī martabah Durgesh sé chudvāté dékhā thā.”*
Apnī béŧī ko mujhsé chudvāté pahlī martabah jab Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah, Jabīn Kħān, né dékhā thā, to Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah ké ‘kħādim’, Shoeb Kħān, bhī apnī ‘Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah’ ké sāth thé.
Ék martabah phir poorī koshish kī thī Jabīn Kħān né unkī cut Musalmān nūnī khađī karné kī.
Aur ék martabah phir voh burī taraħ nākām rahī thien.
Shoeb Kħān ko kabhī sex sé bahut zyādah dilchaspī rahī ho, aesā to kħair, kabhī bhī nahīn thā.
Jabīn Kħān né kabhī kahā nahīn thā apné munh sé, lékin sach yah thā ki apné az-e-ħad shāistah Musalmān shauhar sé Jabīn Kħān burī taraħ paréshān thien.
Hazāron martabah taraħ taraħ sé darkħvāst karné par bhī Shoeb Kħān né Jabīn Kħān ko kabhī roshnī mein nahīn chodā thā.
Aaj unkī béŧī, Shāhīn Kħān, din kī bharpūr roshnī mein Durgesh sé chudvā rahī thī.
Kaisī åjīb baat thī!
Yah ‘Ħuzūr Bégum Sāħibah’, Jabīn Kħān kī zindagī kā pahlā lund thā jisé voh pratyax dékh rahī thien.
Apné shauhar kī cut Musalmān nūnī tak nahīn dékhī thī Jabīn Kħān né pratyaxtah kabhī iské pahlé.
Shoeb Kħān né unhén jab bhī chodā thā, tārīkī mein hī chodā thā.
To aesā hotā hai lund darasal?
Jabīn Kħān ħairān thien ki unhén kħud apnī hī béŧī kī kħushqismatī sé rashk ho rahā thā.
Bahut sharm aa rahī thī Jabīn Kħān ko is baat par ki unkā rom rom yah chāh rahā thā, kaash, Shāhīn Kħān kī jagah voh kħud hotīn.
Durgesh unkā dāmād hai.
Kaisé soch saktī hain Jabīn Kħān ki voh kħud apnī béŧī kī saut ban jāyén?
Satīsh né kitnā bađā dhokah diyā thā Shāhīn Kħān ko.
Aur ab jab Shāhīn Kħān is sadmé sé bāhar nikāl pāī hai to Jabīn Kħān kħud…
Qayāmat tak hargiz nahīn.*
Call Bell ké jawāb mein kħud Kħālidah Kħān né darwāzah kholā.
Ék bār phir mujhé lagā ki voh Kħālidah Kħān nahīn thī.
Kħud uskī juđwān bahan Jabīn Kħān hī thien.
Léshmātr bhī to farq nahīn thā tīnon bahnon mein.
Shabnam Kħān, Jabīn Kħān aur Kħālidah Kħān tīnon hamshakl thien.
Shabnam Kħān 45 saal kī thī lékin tīs sé zyādah kī hargiz nazar nahīn ātī thī.
Log Shabnam Kħān ko Zohrah Kħān aur Nāziyah Kħān kī bađī bahan samajhté thé, Ammī nahīn.
Yahī ħālat Jabīn Kħān aur Kħālidah Kħān kī bhī thī.
35 saal kī thien Jabīn Kħān aur Kħālidah Kħān donon, lékin un donon ko bhī koī tīs sé zyādah kī hargiz nahīn kah saktā thā.
Mérā apnā anubhav, mérā apnā tajurbah, is måmlé mein yah thā ki aksar Musalmān ħasīnāyén is måmlé mein kuchh zyādah hī kħushqismat hotī thien.
Unkā dåvā thā ki iskī wajah unkā Panjvaqtah Namāzī aur burqah pahanné wālī honā thā.
Kħālidah Kħān Crime Prevention ké apné mission ké ħawālé junūn kī taraħ thī.
Har voh shakħs jo corrupt thā, chāhé voh sarkārī ho, ardh-sarkārī yā phir ghair-sarkārī, Kħālidah Kħān kā shikār thā.
Yah sirf mérā hī nahīn, bahut sāré patrkāron kā bhī andāzah thā ki Kħālidah Kħān naam kī koī åurat kahīn thī hī nahīn.
Crime Prevention ké apné nihāyat hī kħatarnāk junūn kī wajah sé Jabīn Kħān hī Kħālidah Kħān ké pen name sé wahān Kħālidah Kħān bankar rah rahī thī.
Kħālidah Kħān/Jabīn Kħān né mujhé drawing room mein biŧhālā.
Tīn bedroom thé us flat mein.
Kħālidah Kħān/Jabīn Kħān né apné bedroom ké bāzū wālé bedroom ko apnā office banā rakhā thā.
Aesā Kħālidah Kħān né kyon kar rakhā thā, yah mujhé nahīn målūm thā.
Voh us poorī ĭmārat kī mālkin thī, kirāyédār nahīn.
Kahīn bhī apnā office banā saktī thī.
Baghal ké flat mein Kħālidah Kħān kī secretary, Jannat-e- Firdaus rahtī thī.
Kħālidah Kħān kī apnī website thī jis par Kħālidah Kħān har mahīné do baar, har pakhwāđé, aisé logon kī Black List jārī kartī thī jo uskī taftīsh ké mutābiq corrupt hoté thé.
Sabhī sambandhit vibhāgon aur officials sé Kħālidah Kħān kā yah anurodh bhī us website mein hotā thā ki voh aisé logon ko investigate karén aur agar jo kuchh Kħālidah Kħān né unké kħilāf apnī website par likhā thā, usko sach pāyén to unké kħilāf case chalāyén.
Kħālidah Kħān kī taraf muskurā kar dékhā mainé.
“Kaisé yād kiyā mérī sarkār?”
“Kyā kaisé yād kiyā?” Kħālidah Kħān shikāyat bharī āwāz mein bolī, “kabhī milté hī nahīn ho, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam?”
“Jo kah rahī ho, soch samajh kar kah rahī ho, yā yūn hī apnī zabān ko dhār dé rahī ho?”
“Tumhārā kyā kħayāl hai, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt?” Kħālidah Kħān lagāwaŧ bharī, mastī bharī āwāz mein bolī.
“Mérā kħayāl hai ki dhār hī dé rahī ho tum apnī zabān ko.”
“Allah ré badqismatī.” Kħālidah Kħān né ék ŧhandī sāns lī.
“Sālī, yā to main sachmuch hī tum Musalmān ħasīnāon kā Hindu Kħasam nahīn hūn, yā phir tū Musalmān nahīn hai.”
“Donon bātén hain, Kħasam, donon bātén hain.” Kħālidah Kħān né ék sard aah bharī, “tum hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam bhī ho, aur main Musalmān bhī hūn. Lékin main ék måmūlī Musalmān åurat hūn, koī Musalmān ħasīnah vasīnah nahīn hūn. Hotī to tumhārī donon jānghon ké darmyān mujhé Mukesh Ambani kā residential house na dikhāī dé rahā hotā, jo Jabīn Kħān ko dékhté hī fauran wajūd mein aa jātā hai tumhārī donon ŧāngon ké darmyān.”
“Utnī dūr sé kyā dékh pāyégī ki kaisī krānti ho rahī hai yahān? Yahān aa kar mérī goad mein baiŧhkar dékh téré swāgat kā yahān kaisā shāndār intejām hai.”
Kħālidah Kħān nihāyat hī makkārī ké sāth muskurāī.
“Yånī haméshah kī taraħ aaj bhī yah faislah nahīn kar pā rahé ho, ki main Kħālidah Kħān hūn, yā Jabīn Kħān. Agar main tumhārī dåvat par vāqaåī tumhārī goad mein aa kar baiŧh gaī, to main Kħālidah Kħān, varnā Jabīn Kħān, no?”*
Main us kambakħt ko ānkh marker muskurāyā.
“Samajhdār to ho tum abhī bahnén.”
Voh bhī jawāb mein mujhé ānkh marker muskurāī.
“Koī aur tarīqā nikālo hum donon juđwān bahnon ko alag alag pahchān sakné kā. Yah tarīqā ab purānā ho chukā. Ab Jabīn Kħān bhī baiŧh saktī hai tumhārī goad mein.”
“Mat māno. Lékin ħaqīqat yah hai ki Jabīn Kħān kī zindagī mein bhī is darmyān ék inqalāb aa chukā hai. Shoeb Kħān Bhāījān kā ab Jabīn Kħān kī tamām koshishon ké bāwajūd hargiz khađā nahīn hotā.”
“Chaunk gayé na?” Voh mujhé phir ānkh marker muskurāī, “Tumné kabhī kħwāb mein bhī nahīn sochā hogā ki kħud Jabīn Kħān bhī tumsé chudvā saktī hai, aur voh bhī pāglon kī taraħ, jitnā tum chāho utnā, jab tak tum chāho, tab tak.”*
Main talkħ lahjé mein bolā,
“Sālī, bol to aésé rahī hai jaisé kħud shabo roz, raat din sé, aharnish, nonstop day and night mujhsé chudvātī rahtī ho, aur main hī tujhé chodné sé katrāyā kartā hoūn.”
“Aré, main to kab sé tumsé chudvāné ké liyé tađap rahī hūn. Lékin tum ho ki kabhī mujhé apnā Uncut Hindu Lund pakađné tak nahīn dété.”
“Shut up, Sālī, jhūŧhī. Kħūb munh kī pakpak karné lagī hai. Aa aakar mérī goad mein baiŧh.”
Usné sharārat sé apnā nichlā honŧh chubhlāyā,
“Soch lo. Sachmuch aakar baiŧh gaī to phir kħūb jī bharkar chudvāyé baghair main nahīn uŧhné wālī. Aur phir na kahnā ki main lāintehā pyāsī thī. Mujhé mere shauhar sé alahdah hué ‘ék zamānā beet gayā’.”
Yah ākħirī fiqrah Kħālidah Kħān né ék tarannum mein kahā thā.
“You are Jabīn Kħān.” main hanstā huā bolā, “tum sirf zabānī smart talk sé kaam chalā rahī ho. Kħālidah Kħān hotīn to mérī itnī dåvat par kabhī kī aakar mérī goad mein baiŧh chukī hotīn.”
“Achchhā? Kħālidah Kħān kyā shabo roz baiŧhī rahtī hai tumhārī goad mein?”
“Sālī ék baar bhī nahīn baiŧhī abhī tak mérī goad mein. Eīshān!Eīshān! kin purāné kħayālāt kī béwaqūf Musalmān åuraton ké bīch phans gayā hai yah Hindu Sambhog Samrāŧ, yah Hindu Chudāī Samrāŧ. Sāliyon ko koī qadr hī nahīn hai is baat kī ki mérā Uncut Hindu Lund kab sé khađā ho kar burī taraħ ŧhanŧhanā rahā hai.”
“What do you mean ‘purāné kħayālāt kī béwaqūf Musalmān åuratén?” Kħālidah Kħān kichkichākar bolī, “Main to is baat kā lihāj kar rahī thī ki tum mérī niece Shāhīn Kħān ké boyfriend ho. ‘purāné kħayālāt kī béwaqūf Musalmān åuratén? Tumhārī to main…ab tumhāré Uncut Hindu Lund kī kħair nahīn. Samjhé? Ék baar ghuséđā to nikālné nahīn dūngī qayāmat tak. Chalo, aa jāo maidān mein.”
Kħālidah Kħān dhamm sé mérī goad mein aa baiŧhī.*
Main uskī is sarvathā apratyāshit ħarkat ké liyé léshmātr bhī taiyār nahīn thā.
Mujhé poorā yaqīn thā ki voh Jabīn Kħān hī hai.
Kħālidah Kħān kā koī wajūd nahīn hai.
Jabīn Kħān hī Kħālidah Kħān bankar double role kar rahī hai.
Isliyé main Jabīn Kħān ko chāhé kitnā hī kyon na uksāūn, voh baharħāl mérī goad mein aakar baiŧhné wālī nahīn hai.
Mérī tamām theory rakhī rah gaī thī aur Jabīn Kħān goad mein aa baiŧhī thī.
Agar voh vāqaåī Jabīn Kħān thī to.
Mérī Hindu purush goad burī taraħ jhulas uŧhī thī.
Jabīn Kħān ké sudaul Musalmān kūlhé mérī Hindu purush goad mein burī taraħ kaskar samā gayé thé.
Voh is taraħ burī taraħ kaskar fit baiŧh gayé thé mérī Hindu purush goad mein jaisé voh kħās taur par mérī Hindu purush goad kā sānchā lékar vahīn samāné ké liyé banāyé gayé hon.
Kitnā perfect size thā unkā.
Tabhī is baat kā ék aur sabūt ħāsil huā mujhé ki mérī goad mein is vaqt Jabīn Kħān hī baiŧhī huī thien, koī Kħālidah Kħān nahīn.
Mérā unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund Jabīn Kħān ké hasīn Musalmān kūlhon ké bīch hī samāyā huā burī taraħ phanphanā rahā thā, kisī Kħālidah Kħān ké kūlhon ké bīch nahīn.
Kħālidah Kħān aur uskī secretary, Jannat-e- Firdaus, ké flats ko bīch sé jođné wālā darwāzah khulā thā aur Jannat-e- Firdaus wahān sé andar dākħil huī thī.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Tujhé Dékhā Tujhé Chāhā
Tujhé Chodā Mainé
Aur chodtā rahūn tujhé hai bas yehī duā
‘The fifteen days of intense sex, love and lust’
Index of Chapters
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Imrān Hāshmī bit down hard on his lip to stop himself from crying out.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was fucking him in his ass.
It was a great mistake that, Imrān Hāshmī thought the entire underworld was Muslim dominated.
Yes, most of the underworld consisted of Pseudo Musalmīn, but not the entire.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was there too.
Imrān Hāshmī loved Rājesh Rājpūt that Rājesh Rājpūt must fuck Imrān Hāshmī in his ass, but when Shankar Mahāpralayankar announced to punish Imrān Hāshmī by himself fucking Imrān Hāshmī, even Rājesh Rājpūt couldn’t save Imrān Hāshmī.
He was Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s mare now.
Mare, not horse.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar was constantly pumping nonstop.
Allah målūm how Shankar Mahāpralayankar had succeeded in establishing that Imrān Hāshmī was dead now.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm had murdered him.
The dead body, Shankar Mahāpralayankar successfully established that it was that of Imrān Hāshmī was arranged by his persons from some hospital.
Pain, pleasure, Imrān Hāshmī was experiencing both.
Almost unbearable pleasure.
Imrān Hāshmī could silence himself no longer.
His gay Musalmān body shuddered uncontrollably as Imrān Hāshmī climaxed.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar still didn’t withdraw his still erect Uncut Hindu Penis from Imrān Hāshmī’s feminine ass.
Imrān Hāshmī rested his feminine buttocks in Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s Hindu groin.
He knew Shankar Mahāpralayankar would fuck him again.
In the meantime, Shankar Mahāpralayankar stood up proudly and stared down at Imrān Hāshmī.
“So you say you haven’t murdered Muħammad bin Qāsim?” Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s Uncut Hindu Penis was still throbbing into Imrān Hāshmī’s round firm perfect feminine ass.
Imrān Hāshmī was panting.
“Señor, I’m a gay. More than ninety-nine percent I am feminine. How can I murder an underworld personality as successful as Muħammad bin Qāsim was?”
“Ummil Åālmīn, Al Zakāt Al Qāsim, wanted you to replace Muħammad bin Qāsim, didn’t she?”
Al Zakāt Al Qāsim smiled at Shankar Mahāpralayankar.
“Shankar, Muħammad bin Qāsim was my younger brother. Abbū tried his best to stop his underworld activities. That’s why I wanted Imrān Hāshmī to replace my younger brother Muħammad bin Qāsim.”
She was all-nude with me.
I was fucking Al Zakāt Al Qāsim from her gorgeous behind.
Imrān Hāshmī was licking my Uncut Hindu Penis when it came out of his sister, Al Zakāt Al Qāsim’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt .
It was Ved Nagar and Chaturang Shāshvat Maithunyog was normal here.
Shankar Mahāpralayankar smiled at me,
“Durgesh, I don’t think Imrān Hāshmī can kill even a rat or fly.”
“Thank you.” Imrān Hāshmī gratefully pushed his feminine buttocks into Shankar Mahāpralayankar’s lap, surrendering his gorgeous feminine ass to Shankar Mahāpralayankar thus, in immense indebtedness.*
Muħammad Ibrāhīm knew Durgesh would never let down him.
How wrong he was.
He hated Durgesh because Durgesh was fucking Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s beautiful sisters, Jamīlah Nādir, Åzīzah Nādir, Fauziyah Nādir, Ghazālah Nādir, Zulékħah Nādir, Bilqīs Nādir and Tayyabah Nādir.
He was the only brother among seven sisters.
His Ammī, Kulsūm Åbbās, loved his only son very much.
Even his Abbū, Al Waħīd Al Muħammad, was very proud of Muħammad Ibrāhīm.
Al Waħīd Al Muħammad was in the Board of Directors in Al Qāsim Rolling, Casting and Engineering Company.
“Abbū,” Muħammad Ibrāhīm had protested, “we are millionaire. You have done very much for your children. All my seven sisters are highly educated and running their own businesses. Yet, their affair with the Hindu multi zillionaire Durgesh…”
“Durgesh is your friend, Muħammad Ibrāhīm.” his wife, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān, interrupted Muħammad Ibrāhīm curtly.
Al Waħīd Al Muħammad smiled.
“She is right, Muħammad Ibrāhīm. Durgesh has a great contribution in not only our success, but our Bahū Bégum’s family’s success as well.”
“I know. But I can’t pay Durgesh with my sisters.” Muħammad Ibrāhīm said curtly.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled cunningly.
“Well, I am ready to pay Durgesh with my sisters for the prosperity and protection my family is receiving from him.”
Muħammad Ibrāhīm watched his wife, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān, scrutinizing her.
“What do you mean?”
“You are ready to pay Durgesh with your sisters only for the prosperity and protection your family is receiving from him? Not with yourself too?”
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled prudently.
“I see. So you still doubt that Durgesh fucks me too?”
“I know Durgesh fucks his Musalmān friends’ extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies. Most of my friends have adjusted with the inevitable because their extremely beautiful Musalmān Houseladies themselves are adamant to fuck Durgesh. They shamelessly say:
‘Once with Durgesh,
all the rest is trash.’
Allah, my own sisters say so.”
Muħammad Ibrāhīm gritted his teeth.
Al Waħīd Al Muħammad smiled.
“Muħammad Ibrāhīm, your sisters are modern young ladies. All of them are highly educated and Durgesh helped them in establishing their own businesses.”
“Their own husbands don’t mind it. Why the hell do you?”
“That’s what I am trying to tell your foolish son, Abbū.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān said curtly.
“Muħammad Ibrāhīm,” Al Waħīd Al Muħammad admonished his somewhat communal somewhat backward son, “It’s twenty first century. Your sisters have their own fundamental human rights and women rights too. Their sex life is their personal life. When their husbands…”
“Their husbands are selling my sisters.” Muħammad Ibrāhīm thundered at his Abbū, Al Waħīd Al Muħammad, “They themselves have extramarital affairs. Why the hell they mind if my sisters are foolish enough to sell themselves to Durgesh to get financial support for their husbands and themselves too?”
“I see.” Al Waħīd Al Muħammad said curtly.
“I too.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān said.
“Durgesh has fucked your brains too.” Muħammad Ibrāhīm said furiously.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān cooed.
“Thanks for the compliment, my dear husband.”
“It’s not a compliment.”
“That’s what you think.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled at her foolish Musalmān husband, “I take it as a compliment that the great Durgesh, the multi zillionaire, the lifelong chairman of HVSI Group of Business Enterprises, is interested in me sexually. It means something else too.”
“That you are sexually incompetent.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān humiliated Muħammad Ibrāhīm deliberately.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm was too furious to respond his wife.
He always suspected Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān never had any platonic relationship with me.
No Musalmān Beauty with brains could have any platonic relationship with me ever.
When I was such a damnfool that I always establish my Musalmān women financially establishing their own separate business establishment, why the hell any Musalmān Beauty with brains wouldn’t get benefited from it?
Okay, let the Hindu damnfool fuck her.
Even their husbands and their inlaws supported them.
Money had its own ethics.
My one fourth Uncut Hindu Lund was already into Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān’s beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
It was rock hard.
“Bhābhījān,” I tried to say.
“Shut up.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān said, smiling into my eyes, “I never accepted the platonic relationship you always offered to me so obdurately. Durgesh, don’t you think ever that you were insulting me, thus?”
I fell as if from the seventh sky.
“All of my sisters, all of my cousins, all of my girlfriends, were enjoying grand sex with you and luxuries your never ending money could buy for them. Yet, I was still only your friend’s girlfriend for you.”
“Bhābhījān, how could I cheat Muħammad Ibrāhīm? He was my friend.”
“Stop acting the damn ethical.” Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān pushed her Musalmān Cunt again on my Uncut Hindu Prick.
My Uncut Hindu Prick entered her Musalmān Cunt half of it now.
I still couldn’t believe Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān herself fucking me.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm was in jail.
Muħammad Åbdullah had told me that Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān doesn’t want him out on bail.
I couldn’t believe Muħammad Åbdullah.
But now, I wasn’t so sure.
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān perhaps never loved her husband, Muħammad Ibrāhīm.
I was mistaken.
Muħammad Ibrāhīm was also mistaken.
But why the hell then Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān married Muħammad Ibrāhīm?
Was she playing some deep game?
I should find out.
Was she behind it herself?
Did she herself mastermind her husband’s arrest?
Did she marry Muħammad Ibrāhīm to destroy him completely?
I should find out.
I should find out.
I should protect my friend from this mastermind bitch.
What a woman?
I never suspected her even while she was so openly unashamed of her activities.
Shakīlah Sultān always grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis.
She always winked at me lewdly.
Once she even unzipped me and entered her right hand to grab my Uncut Hindu Penis.*
I was startled.
“Oh, shut up, fuck me, you Hindu idiot.”
“Stop it, Bhābhījān; after all, there must be some limit.”
“Your friend is a religious damn fool. I married him only because he is a Musalmān and you are not. Now, didn’t you promise me that you’d personally take care of me if Muħammad Ibrāhīm ever failed?”
I was dumbfounded.
“I didn’t mean it to the extent you thought, Bhābhījān.”
“Why not? Your friend is an idiot. He fucks me in darkness only.”
“It’s a customary excuse most of you Musalmān wives use to justify your infidelity,” I laughed, “to justify your extramarital affair with us Hindus. Stop it, Bhābhījān. I know it isn’t true.”
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān had grabbed my Uncut Hindu Penis and had already brought it out of my shorts.
Now she was squeezing it playfully.
It was rock hard.
“It is true. And you have to fill the gap now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Muħammad Ibrāhīm is a poor fucker. You are the best, they say. Now provide me what your friend is not providing.”
“You promised me you’d provide me everything Muħammad Ibrāhīm wouldn’t. Didn’t you?”
“Of course, but I never meant sex too.”
“Well, you never said that.”
“Well, wasn’t it obvious?”
“No. I still had your Uncut Hindu Penis in my hand when you promised me it.”
“Bhābhījān, try to understand me. You were crazy for me then. How the hell otherwise could I convince you to marry Muħammad Ibrāhīm?”
“You promised me specifically that if I married Muħammad Ibrāhīm I would have extramarital affair with you too. Didn’t you?”
“Because you wanted to fuck me then and there.”
“And I did it, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” I was furious now, “you fucked me. You made me unable to meet my eyes with Muħammad Ibrāhīm. He didn’t get your virginity, your cherry. You gave it to me.”
Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān smiled cunningly.
“It was nothing my dear. It was only a trailer. Don’t forget we entered a treaty, a written treaty that you’d provide me everything, including sex too, if Muħammad Ibrāhīm failed to provide me anything to my satisfaction.”
I watched her incredulously.*
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled at Shakīlah Sultān.
“So you want to fuck Durgesh before you marry Muħammad Ibrāhīm?”
Shakīlah Sultān winked at her.
“I want Muħammad Ibrāhīm cuckolded, but not at once. He must suffer gradually increasingly.”
“I thought you loved him.”
“I can’t love a Pseudo Musalmān.” Shakīlah Sultān said scornfully, “I hate the bastards immensely and love them all cuckolded to their Musalmān wives, their Musalmān Houseladies and their Hindu lovers.”
“May I ask why?”
“They are blots to Islam and I am an ardent Musalmān.”
“So you want to punish them?” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled prudently.
“Cuckold Your Musalmān husband is my movement, dearie.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan laughed, “The Pseudo Musalmīn hate me immensely because I patronize Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. It’s my Abbū, Imām Muħammad Ħasan’s first international major success. Even the Western countries finance it because it keeps Hindu Muslim Unity shattered. After 1857, the Westerners are so afraid of Hindu Muslim Unity that they never want them united.”
“But Hindu Lund Muslim Choot union is itself Hindu Muslim Unity. Don’t the bastard Westerners understand it?”
“They believe that the name Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club would excite Musalmīn. They would feel humiliated and therefore never reconcile with Hindus.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was smiling cunningly.
“Well, what’s wrong in it if the Westerners think so? Aren’t Musalmīn so communal now that they can’t bear this name for an international series of clubs?”
“They are. They are. But it would arrange and increase Hindu Lund Muslim Choot union however.”
“But most of the Pseudo Musalmīn are Uneducated/Under Educated. They form the most of the underworld even calling it shamelessly Muslim Underworld too. Won’t they kill Hindus if they feel humiliated to the extent?”*
Long lashes swept upward, dark eyes regarded me with the unabashed frankness of a speculator looking over a piece of property.
She shifted her extremely beautiful nude Musalmān legs on my nude Hindu male shoulders.
My Uncut Hindu Penis once more vanished into her until virgin Musalmān Cunt to my balls.
She smiled at me cunningly.
“I’m going to like this case.” I smiled too.
“I hope you do, Muħammad Ibrāhīm Bhāījān needs a good lawyer.” Al Furqān Al Waħīd said, “Yet, the best lawyer he could have is now being attacked by his own Musalmān Houseladies nonstop.”
“Why are you so against your own brother?”
“Why is his own wife, Shakīlah Sultān Bhābhījān, is against her own husband?”
“That can’t be your own reason too.”
“Why do you want your own brother should get gas chamber?”
“He never helped my husband. He cheated him always.”
“Isn’t that what you yourself are doing now?”
“Cheating Abul Ħakam?” Al Furqān Al Waħīd raised her long lashes once more, “You don’t know me, my Hindu fucker. I can’t cheat Abul Ħakam ever.”
“What is this then? Your beloved husband is suffering from Aids and you persistently requested me to fuck you.”
Al Furqān Al Waħīd’s beautiful eyes were suddenly full of tears.
“He permitted me only when I feigned I was ravenously dying to get sex. Suffering from Aids, Abul Ħakam couldn’t do it himself, so…”
“What do you exactly want from me?”
“I want to test what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī suggested me.”
My mouth was suddenly filled with extreme bitterness.
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī?”
“Yes, now I don’t have another alternative.”
“Are you crazy? Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī both hate Pseudo Musalmīn deadly. They want them humiliated extremely. Don’t you know it?”
“I know,” Al Furqān Al Waħīd said patiently, “but I too think the criminals/criminal minded Pseudo Musalmīn deserve what Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī are doing with them.”
“How innocent are you!” I said sarcastically, “Don’t you realize they are actually cuckolding your Musalmān husband?”
“Under their Cuckold Your Musalmān husband movement?”
“What do you think?”
“Durgesh, well, they have a theory that my husband can survive if he himself allows me to have sex with you and cleans my private parts with his tongue after that.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī?”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī.” Al Furqān Al Waħīd said.
“Are you really PhD?”
“I know what you are thinking of me. But what the another alternative do I have? I can do anything for his survival.”
“You are crazy.”
“No, I’m desperate.” Al Furqān Al Waħīd contradicted me, “A desperate can do anything whatsoever if there is even an infinitesimal possibility.”
“I can’t appreciate Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan and Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, neither I can even forgive them for it. They are humiliating a person that’s already dying.”
“But he is recovering, méré Hindu Piyā.”
“What?” I was crestfallen.
I couldn’t believe her.
“That’s right. I know you won’t believe it. Even I couldn’t. But believe it or not.Since Abul Ħakam has allowed me to have sex with you and is licking my Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Cunt and Musalmān ass, Abul Ħakam is really recovering surprisingly fast. The doctors had decided Abul Ħakam should go through one more operation. But when we reached there, for the operation, the doctors have suddenly found the operation isn’t needed any more, at least now. Tell me if it isn’t the effect of what we are doing, our threesome I mean, why otherwise it’s happening?”
“It may be a coincidence only.”
Al Furqān Al Waħīd watched me attentively.
“Sorry, Durgesh, I don’t believe what you say. I respect you the most, but…”
“You respect me?” I looked at her quite surprised. My unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis was diving into her until virgin Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt to my balls, remaining there enough to get content abundantly, coming out till only its head remained inside, and then again plunging more vigorously, till again it’s inside her tight Musalmān Cunt upto my balls to remain there again till I was entirely content with it abundantly, “You only respect me even now?”
Al Furqān Al Waħīd’s expressive eyes were suddenly intensely cold.
“’I see. You want to hear from me that I love you now. Don’t you?”
“Isn’t it natural?”
“I think so. But I respect you to the extent that I can’t lie to you even if I wanted to. It would never be convincing enough to you. Moreover, I would hate myself very much for it, so much that I can’t live normally with my lies to you. It would shatter down my own self respect in my own eyes.”
“Al Furqān Al Waħīd, we are making love…”
Al Furqān Al Waħīd raised her right hand up, in my sentence.
“No, we aren’t.”
“We aren’t making love. I don’t love you. Neither I am capable to love anyone else except Abul Ħakam. Sorry.”
“The hell we aren’t making love.” I said somewhat irritated, “I’m fucking you vigorously…”
“That you are fucking me.”
“I didn’t get you.”
“We are fucking each other. That’s it. We are fucking each other. That’s all. I respect you the most for it that you are kind enough to fuck me. I need it. I need your unique legendary Uncut Hindu Penis into my Musalmān Cunt very much. But that is the all you can get from me in return. I honor you. And I’d honor you the most till Abul Ħakam and I do exist anywhere. Abul Ħakam does also honor you not less than I do.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Durgesh Ilāhī Ħabīb Qur’an
The sight of Ilāhī Ħabīb Qur’an was unbelievable.
It was a great combination.
She had the straight black hair of an oriental, but the face was a sweet mix of the two.
I don’t know where the body came from, I was just glad that it was here, now. *
Ilāhī Ħabīb Qur’an was only eighteen, and one of Jāhnavī Dīxit’s best friends.
The only thing I could think of was she was her husband’s daughter from his first wife, Al Tawħīd Al Islam
She was also asking me out on a date.
Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, how did I get out of this?
Or did I want to?
I knew the risks, but couldn’t help myself.
I was at Jāhnavī Dīxit’s apartment, where she was living with her Brāhmañ husband, Brahmdév Sharmā, while attending college.
Ilāhī Ħabīb Qur’an was attending another school not far away, and the two girls and their other friends were constantly getting together to talk and laugh, just as they had been doing since they started hanging out in junior high.
I knew all the girls, of course, but had always had a feeling that Ilāhī Ħabīb Qur’an was just a bit different than the other girls from the start.
It would appear I was right.
I had just agreed to help Ilāhī Ħabīb Qur’an find a car this Saturday.
She needed a new car and had hoped that her father could come and help her find one.
She didn’t have a lot of money to spend.
However, he had to work and she wanted a man to go along and make sure that she didn’t get screwed by some used car salesman.
I couldn’t blame one if he tried.
All of the girls were attractive, especially because of their smooth young skin and tight little bodies, but Ilāhī Ħabīb Qur’an was the only one who was out and out SEXY.
She didn’t even appear to try, but it was there.
Nice round pointy tits, flat waist, flaring hips, sweet tight little ass and long legs.
All of that and very pretty besides.
I was lost.
I was already thinking that at least I could ogle her all day while we were looking for her a different car.
I was sixty three now.
Yet I was craving for a girl just eighteen.
Just eighteen to thirty.
“And what about the Musalmān Beauties over thirty?” Fātimah Vaqār Taymūr smirked, “They don’t deserve Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund? Their above thirty Musalmān Cunts don’t qualify for Durgesh’s unique legendary Uncut Hindu Lund? A sixty three years old Uncut Hindu Lund is serving Jet Musalmān Cunts. It’s not needed in above thirty years Musalmān Cunts. They can search of other suitable Uncut Hindu Penises. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan the new Kħātūn-e-Jannat Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånhā has declared the new policy of her Jannat-e-Firdaus. Lāhaul vilā qūvat.”
She was so bold now that she damn cared if the entire humanity watched her fucking her Brahmā Vishñu Mahésh.
“Congratulations Nāzimah Yåqūb Bājī.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah cooed, “It’s not easy to snatch away a Bachhalyā from the ever jealous Brahmkanyās and Brahmāñīs. Mahéshvar Bachhalyā is however successfully you have excluded to serve you first.”
“Nothing is impossible if we try to achieve sincerely. Thank you Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.”
Nāzimah Yåqūb was surprised.
“You are coming from Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club?”
“She had come here.” Nāzimah Yåqūb told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, “We discussed our new strategies to ‘Cuckold your Musalmān husband’ movement. But Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī called her on her mobile. Sidrah Aħmad immediately went to Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī. I don’t know why.”
“She said there was some emergency. She didn’t have the time to explain me everything in detail.”
“To me?” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was surprised, “For what?”
The plane from London had just landed on the airport of Jaipur.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was glued to the cabin window.
It was the first time she was traveling to India and she had dreamed of it for years.
She had been fascinated by India, the beauty of the landscapes, the splendor of the palaces but even more by the glamour of Indian men in Hindutv pride even when they were doing daily chores among garbage heaps.
She had drawn in her India dream, her husband since two years.
He had offered her several salwar kameez and a series of sarees along with plenty Indian jewelry baubles for belly Dance.
She had occasionally worn them for Eīdul Fitr or other family parties.
She wore more often the jewelry, when she had a belly Dance performance in public.
At the time, she was 47 but she was taking so much attention to her skin and body that she looked ten of fifteen years less.
She had no wrinkles.
She suddenly had decided to lose weight and asked for the help of a dietician.
Often such treatment helps you to lose a few pounds you win back shortly after but she had an inordinate force of will.
She had decided her ideal weight, 108 pounds and she had clung to her goal.
She had lost in fifteen months forty pounds and watched her weight daily since.
As Kħadījah Al Tāhirah had been practicing belly Dancing around six hours a week and several more at home, her skin had not sagged at all.
But she still felt herself fat.
Clothes size had followed her weight loss and she could easily exchange sweaters with her husband’s daughter.
“Honey, it’s fantastic, we are in the dream country of you Musalmān Beauties, India, at last and did you hear the pilot? The temperature is 30¡ Celsius. In France, when we boarded the plane, it was freezing.” Al Muħammad Al Imām smiled at his prize beautiful Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān wife.
“Al Muħammad Al Imām, you idiot, you my extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass licker, I wish you have followed my advice just to pack something warm for the return and take only light clothes.”
“ I took two salwar kameez and one saree. Don’t be angry, please, my lady luck.” Al Muħammad Al Imām touched her feet to please her.
“Sālé, musaddé,” Shankar Mahāpralayankar grabbed his beard fucking his till virgin Musalmān ass violently, “I’m not Durgesh, the softie. I’m the ardent follower of Dr. Ali Sina. I fuck you Musalmīn too in your anti humanity Musalmān ass. I don’t fuck Musalmān Beauties only, as Durgesh does. Durgesh is the Live in Relationship Partner of my own real Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān sister and other countless Musalmān sisters too. If you even think to harm Durgesh ever in any way, I’d proudly kill you fucking your terrorist Musalmān ass.”
Al Muħammad Al Imām could not speak even a word.
And they couldn’t do anything to Shankar Mahāpralayankar ever.*
“It s amply sufficient, we will buy what we need when we arrive at our first stopping place. Our travel guide will tell us where to find what you need.” Al Muħammad Al Imām murmured to his thoroughly successful wife Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
Sidrah Aħmad was its present president.
Muħammad Åbbās still remembered when he first saw his friend, Durgesh, squeezing his Bahū Bégum’s chūchiyān in the kitchen & then next time taking her to a hotel.
He was furious to the extent to slap me.
His friends were right.
They had warned Muħammad Åbbās.
“Yet,” O.P. Dīxit commented gravely, “What can we do?”
Vikram Rājpūt, Mr’tyunjaý Chauhān, Milind Joshī, everyone sighed his helplessness.
Muħammad Åbbās was surprised somewhat.
Muħammad Åbbās couldn’t believe it.
“It’s not a matter of humiliation at all, Åbbās.” Akbar Mujāhid couldn’t stop himself, “actually Durgesh is doing it because he is our friend and he doesn’t want our houseladies vagabond here and there. He wants to keep their adultery unto himself and hush hush.”
Everyone was dumbfounded.
“It means,” Muħammad Åbbās said at length, as if fallen from the seventh sky, “it means Durgesh is really our friend and he is keeping our honor instead of disgracing us?”
“That’s right.” Akbar Mujāhid said with almost choked voice, “He has raped my daughter, Ruqayyah Mujāhid recently. Not because he had lust for her. She was falling for Brahmdév Sharmā instead.”
“Yes, the Minister, the Congressman we voted for. He was after my just eighteen daughter.”
Everyone was again dumbfounded.*
When I woke up I was tied down to a bed with a ball gag in my mouth I tried to shout for help but it was muffled by the ball gag.
It was very dark in the room but in turning my head to try and see if I could get free I noticed the clock and it was 4:12am.
I was very worried about this as I was sure by now all my friends would have left and that I was probably the only one left.
I then heard a voice talking to someone it was a guy talking to the girl that had obviously drugged me.
She said bye to him and from what I could tell he left as I heard the door close.
After this, the door to the room I was in, opened and the bitch came in to the room.
I struggled to get free but it was no use.
she then said to me,
As she said this I thought that this might actually turn out to be not that bad as I was sure she just wanted to have sex with me and she was so hot that I really didn’t care at all that she drugged me.
She then told me that she would be back soon.
About ten minutes or so later I heard the door bell go and heard another few girls’ voices.
I actually started to get quite excited about what I thought was going to happen.
The door opened again and Sājidah Imām the girl that had tied me up was standing with another two girls wearing latex dresses.
They came in and Sājidah Imām left.
One of them went in to her bag and brought a syringe out and injected it into my left arm which knocked me out cold.
I woke up hanging up spread eagle in a cellar dungeon.
Nothing fancies really just a big overhead beam with a couple posts out to the sides and a nice easy chair with a table on the side.
I had locking cuffs on my ankles that were chained out to the sides so my feet, which have 5 inch stiletto heels tied on them, are held about two feet apart so that she has free access to my Hindu crotch.
I couldn’t believe it.
Yesterday I’ve raped Ruqayyah Mujāhid myself.
And today I’m being raped.
My Bhogchakr was really even beyond my control.*
Samīnah Ħabīb was exhausted as the cheerleading coach dismissed them from practice for the day.
Since transferring to City High a month ago, her life had certainly changed.
She had found herself making friends easily and had won a position on the cheerleading squad after her first tryout.
As she made her way to the locker room with the rest of the Musalmān Beauties, she wryly thought about how hard she had thought it was going to be to leave the University and friends she had known all her life to begin anew.
It sure had been a lot easier than she had imagined.
Even her Hindu Lover, Durgesh, had found it easy to fit in to the new University and routine.
Even as she started to undress to take a shower, Durgesh was out at football practice competing for the quarterback position.
As she undressed, Samīnah Ħabīb looked around the locker room at her fellow cheerleaders.
They sure were a diverse bunch, she thought.
There was Sherī Åbbās, a tall, dark-haired girl with big, upright tits, dark nipples that always seemed to be hard whenever Samīnah Ħabīb had seen them, slender waist with her hips flaring to her legs, which tapered down, long and slim, a dark thatch of hair filling the juncture of her thighs.
Always with Sherī Åbbās were Padminī Tripāŧhī and Della Christ, Padminī Tripāŧhī with blonde hair, not quite as tall and big as Sherī Åbbās, but her pale tits ended in large, cream-colored nipples and her hips were big.
Della Christ was a redhead, just like herself, but unlike herself, Della Christ’s hair was cropped short, almost like a boy’s haircut, causing her totally freckled body to really stand out.
She had nice, firm tits with pale, cherry nipples at the end.
Her fiery red bush was not very dense, allowing you to get a peek of pale skin underneath.
Samīnah Ħabīb self-consciously examined her own body in the mirror.
Her tits were nice and firm, very upright with big, dark-cherry nipples on the end. Her waist was very slim, showing a nice flat belly with her thick bush of red hair sticking out below. Her long, thick red hair hung down past her shoulders. She couldn’t see anything to complain of, so she joined the others in the shower.
Sherī Åbbās Padminī Tripāŧhī and Della Christ were laughing together as they soaped up and began to work lather up.
Samīnah Ħabīb began to shower at the shower next to them, listening to their conversation.
Sherī Åbbās was talking about her date the night before with me, the other boy trying to become the quarterback on the Literary team.
Sherī Åbbās was talking about how it hadn’t taken me any time at all on our date to begin trying to kiss her and feel her up.
She laughed as she described how desperate I had seemed as she thwarted my attempts to feel her up.
She related how, as the evening passed, she had relented somewhat and began to make out with me, kissing me and sucking tongues together.
She commented that I was really a good kisser with a really long tongue.
Padminī Tripāŧhī and Della Christ laughed as she said this.
Sherī Åbbās commented that she was going to go out with me on Friday and that she planned on letting me go a little further this time, maybe even letting me play with her tits a little bit.
As she said this, Sherī Åbbās reached up and gave both of her soapy tits a good squeeze and massage, pinching her nipples for good measure.
Padminī Tripāŧhī and Della Christ laughed.
Della Christ reached over and pinched one of Sherī Åbbās’s nipples, causing her to squeal as she tried to pinch her back.
Laughing, they all finished showering and got dressed.
As they dressed and began to leave the locker room, Samīnah Ħabīb moved over next to Sherī Åbbās to ask her a question.
“Sherī Åbbās,” she asked, “how do you control guys so that they don’t go too far?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” she replied. “You just make sure that they think there’s a chance that they might succeed and they’ll go along with anything.”
“But what happens when things start to get too far along?”
“Well, either you like them and go along or you don’t like them and you fight like crazy,” Sherī Åbbās laughed.
“Yeah,” Della Christ commented, “when was the last one you fought like crazy because you didn’t like him?”
“Well,” Sherī Åbbās answered, “at least I know before I go out with them if I’m going to like them. Not like you, finding out when it’s too late to do anything about it.”
Della Christ grimaced.
Sherī Åbbās laughed.
“You mean you’ve let some of them do what they want?” Samīnah Ħabīb inquired.
“Of course I have,” Sherī Åbbās responded. “If I didn’t, they’d all know that I was just a tease and nobody would want to go out with me.”
“Hah,” Della Christ said, “you do it because you love it and you know it.”
“Well, so what,” Sherī Åbbās retorted, “at least I get it from people I choose, not just whoever chooses me.”
“I like the guys I go with,” Della Christ replied. “What about you, Samīnah Ħabīb, ever had been with a guy?”
“No, not like that. I haven’t. I mean, I’ve made out with some of the boys I’ve gone out with, I’ve just never gone any further.”
“Well, neither have I,” Padminī Tripāŧhī chimed in. “I’m sure I will when I’m ready, I just wasn’t born always horny like these two,” she said laughing.
“I wasn’t born horny, I just ended up that way,” Sherī Åbbās laughed. “I’ll bet that before the University year is out, both of you end up losing your cherries. Face it, you’re cheerleaders now. Every guy in University wants to be with a cheerleader. You’ll have your pick of them, after I do, of course, then you’ll end up doing it with someone.”
“I don’t know,” Samīnah Ħabīb said. “I always thought it’d be with someone special the first time.”
“Who’s to say it won’t be,” Della Christ replied. “It can be really nice. Believe me, I know. It doesn’t have to be tawdry at all.”
“There’s nothing tawdry about me,” Sherī Åbbās declared, “I just like boys. I’ll tell you what,” Sherī Åbbās said with a sly grin, “Friday night I’ll let you guys hide in my house and you can watch Durgesh making out with me. My parents are away for the weekend so they won’t be there. What do you say? You can hide in the study and I’ll get Durgesh to make out with me in the living room.”
“I’ll be there, you can bet on it,” Della Christ said laughing. “How about you two, you going to join me?”
“Sure,” Padminī Tripāŧhī said. “I think it’ll be funny that Durgesh won’t know we’re watching him. You gonna come, Samīnah Ħabīb?”
“I guess so,” she replied. “It seems sort of weird though, peeping on people making out.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” Sherī Åbbās said. “Maybe you’ll get some pointers.”
With that they all went their way as they walked home.
As Samīnah Ħabīb lived in the opposite direction from the other three, she walked home by herself, reflecting on her new friends.
They were always nice to her but she still felt a little like an outsider.
Face it, she was.
I’ve only been here a month, Samīnah Ħabīb reminded herself.
They’ve known each other for years.
As she continued on her way, Samīnah Ħabīb thought about how happy her parents had been to move to Friend, Nebraska.
She couldn’t believe it when they had told her and Durgesh that they were moving from Portland, Oregon to Nebraska.
It had seemed like a move in the wrong direction.
Midterm 2012 was due in India now.
Samīnah Ħabīb was worried that her Abbū, Muħammad Ħabīb might lose to her own Ammī, Attāhirah Al Kulsūm.
Her Abbū, Muħammad Ħabīb, was stupid enough not to resign from Indian National Congress.
He still thought inanely that UPA would return to power.
Samīnah Ħabīb’s Ammī, Attāhirah Al Kulsūm, laughed.
“Anna Hazare and his team have already caused Indian National Congress to lose Assembly Elections in five states, Goa, Punjab, Uttarakhand, Uttar Pradesh and Mañipur. You still believe UPA can return to power. You are foolish.”
Padminī Tripāŧhī watched her father, Rām Sharañ Tripāthī.
He was fighting from Ayodhya parliamentary seat from Indian National Congress.
Padminī Tripāŧhī was worried that there were more than ninety percent chances he could lose to the BJP candidate.
Muħammad Åbbās was fighting from BJP there.
He has promised to his voters to build Rām Mandir at Ayodhya.
Now it seemed as though she could hardly remember Oregon anymore.
Nebraska was really nice, open and no rain all the time.
The people were a lot more open than they had been back in Oregon and it wasn’t as square as she had been led to believe.
Just as she got to the street she lived on, Samīnah Ħabīb heard her name shouted from behind.
Turning around, she saw it was I, marching to catch up to her.
Samīnah Ħabīb really loved me.
I was so good- looking and nice.
Everyone seemed to like me.
I was medium, yet athletic, always did great at everything I tried.
As I caught up to her, I grabbed her in a big hug and swung her around.
“I’m going to be the starting quarterback,” he announced gleefully. “They told us today.”
“Oh, Durgesh, I’m so happy for you,” Samīnah Ħabīb said, hugging me fiercely. “Now I’ll really have a reason to cheer.”
“How’s cheerleading going?” I inquired. “Is it as much fun as you hoped it would be?”
“Well, it’s a lot more work than I thought, but I like the Musalmān Beauties and it’s a good workout. In fact, I’m going out with some of them Friday night,” she said, deciding that it was going to be fun watching Sherī Åbbās in action.
“What about you, any dates in mind yet?” she asked me.
“We’ll see,” I smiled. “I want to see what being quarterback brings my way. You found anyone yet?” I teased, knowing how shy she was.
“I’m not in any hurry,” Samīnah Ħabīb said. “Besides, no one’s really paid any special attention to me yet.”
“They will, especially when they see you out there jumping around in your cheerleading outfit.”
Then we went into the house where Samīnah Ħabīb’s Ammī, Attāhirah Al Kulsūm, was beginning to fix dinner.
As Samīnah Ħabīb began to help with the dinner, she told her of her day in University, I being especially proud of having earned the starting quarterback position on the Literary team.
“Muħammad Ħbīb will be real proud of you,” Attāhirah Al Kulsūm said. “He called and said he’d be a little late tonight, so we’ll eat before he gets home.”*
My rhythm, increased feeling Arzumand Jahāngīr’s nectar drip out of her hole and onto my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I had replaced my fingers with my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I had to.
Arzumand Jahāngīr was adamant.
It was like warm water running down my Uncut Hindu Lund.
I’d never felt a Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot like this.
It was just so sweet and soaked.
I could feel her tense up as she slightly lifted her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān body up.
‘Is she cumming?’ I wondered.
I looked closely as she was quivering with delight.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, oh my God, she is cumming!” I watched as my maternal cousin climaxed on my Uncut Hindu Lund.
Her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot was throbbing as her orgasm finished.
I loved the way she felt inside I didn’t even want to remove my Uncut Hindu Lund from her hole.
I left my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her until she slowly seemed to recover.
Arzumand Jahāngīr felt herself smile shyly at me.
I was moving closer to Arzumand Jahāngīr.
I wanted to kiss her again as I’d done the other night.
We were about to lock lips when we heard loud noises.
It was the car behind us honking.
It looked like the streets were open again.
I quickly put the car on drive and I raced home.
I was going to make love to Arzumand Jahāngīr tonight.
There was no doubt about that.
Arzumand Jahāngīr knew what was going to happen as well.
She was ready for it.
She was prepared to have I make love to her.
The siblings drove home full of raging desires for one another.
This time we weren’t going to let anything stop us.
The rain had stopped by the time Arzumand Jahāngīr and I got back to the apartment.
The sky above us looked clear as if it had never rained.
Arzumand Jahāngīr was eager to get inside and show I just how much she loved me.
Putting my car in park, I rushed to run around my car and open up Arzumand Jahāngīr’s door.
I held her hand as she got out of the car.
I wanted to kiss her now, but knew there were peering eyes bound to catch us.
We kept quiet as we headed up to the apartment.
Arzumand Jahāngīr felt her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot wet from her unbelievably erotic orgasm.
She watched me nervously fumble with the keys as I ppened the door.
She took a deep breath as I stepped aside to let her in.
This is it!
Arzumand Jahāngīr knew me t was time to let I love her.
Arzumand Jahāngīr stood in the hallway hearing me close the door behind and locking it.
I turned the lights on.
She closed her extremely beautiful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān eyes as I put my arms around her from behind.
My body felt so strong, so good against her petite body.
“I love you Arzumand Jahāngīr,” I whimpered in her ear as I pushed her hair aside letting my lips brush against the back of her neck.
My hands were on her shoulders and she reached with her own hands to place them on me.
“I-I love you too Durgesh,” she said nervously.
My hot breath was gliding on her skin so gently.
My lips kissed her skin tenderly and Arzumand Jahāngīr could feel My Uncut Hindu Cock hard as I stood behind her.
She felt me slide my arms around her waist holding her tight.
I loved the way my little maternal cousin felt.
She felt so fragile and innocent.
I could smell the light touch of her perfume as the aroma dazzled me.
I was finally getting my fantasy to come true.
I had her to myself, finally.
“Arzumand Jahāngīr, I want you. I want you so bad!” I spoke softly.
Arzumand Jahāngīr felt me turn her around to face me.
I looked at her childlike face.
I leaned down to kiss her.
Her red crimson quivering juicy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān lips met with mine and we shared an intense kiss.
Arzumand Jahāngīr let herself go, accepting me kiss once again.
My kiss had left her wanting me more.
My tongue slithered in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān mouth as we touched tongues exchanging saliva from our eager mouths.
Arzumand Jahāngīr and I both moaned while we kissed so erotically.
Arzumand Jahāngīr wasn’t sure if it was the fact that, she was kissing me that got her so turned on, or the fact that she was truly in love with me.
I didn’t see Arzumand Jahāngīr as my maternal cousin , I saw her as a beautiful young Musalmān lady that wanted me .
And I wanted her.
Arzumand Jahāngīr broke our kiss and tightened her hold she had on my waist.
“Durgesh, let me make love to you.” Arzumand Jahāngīr didn’t believe it herself that she was speaking out her true feelings.
My eyes widened.
My little maternal cousin wanted to ride my Uncut Hindu Cock!
She had already succeeded.
She made me to do it in the car.
Yet, it was not enough.
She actually wanted to slide her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot up and down my aching Uncut Hindu Cock.
Oh, fuck that was hot!
I grabbed my maternal cousin and lifted her up in my arms.
Arzumand Jahāngīr gasped at first taken by surprise.
“Let’s go to my room,” I said as I carried her.
In my room, I kicked off my shoes and moved towards Arzumand Jahāngīr like a mad man.
Arzumand Jahāngīr didn’t resist my touch.
We kissed with hungry kisses and Arzumand Jahāngīr was losing herself more with me than with any other man she’d ever been with.
Arzumand Jahāngīr pushed me towards my bed.
She wanted to have my Uncut Hindu Cock in her right away.
She’d been keeping all her feeling to herself but tonight she was going to let me know everything she felt for me.
“Oh I ! I wanna see your Uncut Hindu Cock!” Arzumand Jahāngīr blurted out putting her hand on my Uncut Hindu Cock over my pants.
“Get it out of my pants darling.” I said in a lustful rage.
I just let myself fall back on the bed with my hard Uncut Hindu Cock showing through my slacks.
Arzumand Jahāngīr stood above me looking shy but very curious.
She zipped down my pants and pulled out my aching throbbing Uncut Hindu Cock.
Arzumand Jahāngīr looked down and her extremely beautiful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān eyes grew wide looking at my Uncut Hindu Cock.
It was everything she’d fantasized it would be.
My thick mushroom head was slimy with precum.
The glow of my precum was making her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān mouth water.
She stepped back and took her sandals off.
She let her own shaky hands pull her panties down.
I watched my little maternal cousin get on top of me.
Her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān body felt so light, so beautiful.
She leaned down to kiss me softly as my hands brought down her spaghetthe straps from her dress.
Her amazing breasts fell out right away.
They were a c-cup size.
Arzumand Jahāngīr’s nipples were small and thick in a dark pink color.
I reached up to put one of my maternal cousin’s breasts in my palm.
Arzumand Jahāngīr tossed her head back moaning as I squeezed her nipple.
She could feel my fingers on her nipples.
She was so ready for anything I was willing to give her.
She’d never really had a chance to make love to a man she really loved.
But now she was here with a man she loved with all of her heart.
Arzumand Jahāngīr could feel my Uncut Hindu Cock twitching as I squeezed her nipple.
My precum was getting all over her legs but she didn’t care.
She loved my Durgeshly juices on her.
Though she kept wondering what my Hindu cum would feel like inside her.
“Mmmm yes! Squeeze my nipples Durgesh darling,” She rasped out.
I moved from one nipple to the other taking turns squeezing them.
I cupped each breast with one hand as I kissed them.
Arzumand Jahāngīr looked down as she watched me kiss her erect young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān breasts.
My palm was hungry for her tits.
I couldn’t take any more.
“Arzumand Jahāngīr, fuck me. Fuck my Uncut Hindu Cock darling,” I said roughly.
Arzumand Jahāngīr tossed her hair to the side and lifted her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān body up enough to get my big Uncut Hindu Cock ready to go inside her.
She grabbed it with her hand and felt it pulsing as she lightly stroked it.
I put my hand over hers as she looked at me.
“Are you on birth control or do you want me to wearing protection?” I asked in the heat of the moment.
Arzumand Jahāngīr just gave me a devilish grin.
“I’m on the pill, dear.”
“Oh, fuck! Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, God, I want you Arzumand Jahāngīr! I want you!” I moaned anxiously.
Arzumand Jahāngīr straddled me and slowly slid her tight excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot on My Uncut Hindu Cock.
“Mmmmgggghhhh,” she wailed loudly as My Uncut Hindu Cock was piercing her tight little hole.
She could feel my manhood creeping inside her, opening her up.
“Yes baby, that’s right. fuck big Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Cock. Do it Arzumand Jahāngīr. I love you!” I was holding on tightly to her waist.
“Oh I love you Durgesh. I love you so much!” Arzumand Jahāngīr was now shrilling loudly as she finally got all of my Uncut Hindu Cock in her.
She started moving her hips around seductively savoring the feel and length of My Uncut Hindu Cock.
I had never felt a tighter excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot than this.
She seemed so innocent, yet she knew damn well what she was doing.
Arzumand Jahāngīr slowly began to grind her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot on My Uncut Hindu Cock.
I felt so incredible!
She could feel the veins of my Uncut Hindu Cock massaging her inside.
Moving her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān body faster she was now on a rampage fucking My Uncut Hindu Cock.
I held on to her erect young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān breasts pinching her nipples as I felt my Uncut Hindu Cock being smashed by my maternal cousin ‘s warm juices.
Her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot glided gracefully up and down my long Hindu shaft.
I felt each stroke of her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot pulling my skin up and down making me want to explode hard in her.
Arzumand Jahāngīr was feeling the sensation of my Uncut Hindu Cock as she rode it.
She couldn’t believe she was finally here, making love to me .
Her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot was now adjusting to my size and more letting her enjoy this wonderful lovemaking.
“Yes! Oh, that’s it! Keep riding me baby!” I was breathless.
“Mmmmm your Uncut Hindu Cock feels so good!” Arzumand Jahāngīr exclaimed as she fucked My Uncut Hindu Cock harder now, pouncing her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot so hard making my balls move up and down.
She’d clench her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot on my Uncut Hindu Lund making me want to lose control.
I suddenly felt my balls tighten with sperm ready to shoot out into my maternal cousin’s excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
I was going to cum hard.
I just knew it!
I shut my eyes tightly for a few seconds as I was starting to release my Hindu cum.
“Mhmmmmm Arzumand Jahāngīr! I’m cumming! I’m fuckin’ cumming!” I groaned loudly.
Arzumand Jahāngīr accelerated her speed and felt me shooting out my Hindu cum all inside her.
She felt her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān body jolt for a minute as she took my shot of cum.
It was incredibly sexy.
I felt as if I was shooting out gallons of cum.
I’d shot out at least 6 times long angry ropes of cum.
I’d wanted Arzumand Jahāngīr for days now and now I saw what she could do to me.
She was reaching an amazing climax right there on my Uncut Hindu Cock.
I felt her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot clasp my Uncut Hindu Lund hard and her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān body shook madly.
She looked at me as she came.
“Yes baby, cum on my Uncut Hindu Cock. Fuck yes!” I grabbed her erect young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān breasts harder feeling her nipples erect more as she was finishing her orgasm.
Arzumand Jahāngīr felt herself weaken after an intense orgasm.
She laid her head down on my chest.
She could hear my heart beating rapidly.
She was so out of breath and spent.
I just ran my Uncut Hindu Lund through her hair as I held her close to me.
“You’re amazing Arzumand Jahāngīr,” I murmured.
Arzumand Jahāngīr moved looking up at me.
“I love you Durgesh. I think I love you more than I’ve ever loved any man.”
“Arzumand Jahāngīr, I want to be with you.”
Arzumand Jahāngīr kissed my lips lightly. “I’m scared Durgesh darling. What if we fall deeply and madly in love?”
I didn’t respond.
I just stroked her pretty face and let her lay her head back on my chest. “It’s too late Arzumand Jahāngīr. I’m already deeply and madly in love with you,” I finally responded.
Arzumand Jahāngīr sighed brushing her red crimson quivering juicy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān lips on my chest.
She was fearful of what the future had in store for us, yet she was so intrigued by being her my lover.4
Arzumand Jahāngīr rested on top of me feeling my Uncut Hindu Cock soften inside her.
She brought herself up laying down next to me as we stared into each other’s eyes.
She kept thinking of all the times we used to fight when we were younger.
I used to pull her bra and she’d chase me around the house.
I used to tease her when she wore her braces. Arzumand Jahāngīr smiled to herself as she recalled those Moments.
Never in her life had she imagined she’d be like this.
In love with me.
“How do you think we can get away with this relationship?” Arzumand Jahāngīr asked as she ran her finger on my lips.
“I don’t know. We have to be very careful Arzumand Jahāngīr.” My gaze was on her pretty face with my hands on her erect young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān breasts.
“You mean we have to sneak around?”
“Well sort of. Yes, I guess you can say that. At least for the time being.”
Arzumand Jahāngīr’s eyes saddened.
“I hate the fact that we’ll have to sneak around. I’d love to be able to tell anyone how much I love you.”
“Even Mumānījān and Māmūjān?” I asked raising my eyebrows.
Arzumand Jahāngīr sighed as she cringed. “Well I guess not everyone.”
I held Arzumand Jahāngīr closer to me.
I’d watch her grow up to be a beautiful young lady.
She had grace, style and beauty all in one package.
How could any guy resist her?
“Arzumand Jahāngīr. We’ll worry about that later. Right now, I just want to have you next to me. Like I have been wanting for that past week.” I said kissing her forehead.
“DURGESH, it’s so strange how we fell in love, don’t you think?” Arzumand Jahāngīr asked stroking my hair.
I kissed her red crimson quivering juicy Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān lips tenderly.
“Yes it is. I wish the circumstances were different.”
“Oh Durgesh, why does life have to be so cruel, yet so kind? I mean I think it’s cruel for it to fall madly in love with you, and kind that I’ve found a man like you to love, to cherish.”
I just held Arzumand Jahāngīr tightly feeling her warmth.
She felt so womanly, yet so much like a young child.
The aroma of our sex was all over the room and I loved the sense it brought.
“I’m gonna take a shower Durgesh.” Arzumand Jahāngīr said sitting up.
I raised myself up from the bed.
“Can I take one with you?”
Arzumand Jahāngīr blushed.
“I’d love to have you in the shower with me.”
“Alright then!” I cheered.
We walked into the shower, still half clothed.
Arzumand Jahāngīr turned on the shower making it a nice hot one.
The water started to run warm and then hot making the room steamy.
I stood before my maternal cousin and slowly raised her dress.
My hands slid on her firm bottom feeling it, fondling it.
“Mmmm I never thought you’d be touching my butt like this.”
I lifted her dress up over her taking it all off.
“Well, I never thought I’d want you so much.”
Arzumand Jahāngīr stood there completely naked.
Even though the room was hot, her nipples were hard.
I was almost breathless looking at my maternal cousin naked.
Eīshān, God, she looks delicious I thought to myself.
Her erect young Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān breasts so firm, her tummy so flat, her skin so soft and delicate.
“You’re so beautiful, Arzumand Jahāngīr. I’m falling more in love with you each second.”
Arzumand Jahāngīr held me close to her naked skin. “I love you Durgesh. I love you so much.”
Arzumand Jahāngīr began pulling out the rest of my shirt.
Somewhat of it was still tucked in my loose open pants.
I stood back as Arzumand Jahāngīr unbuttoned my shirt.
She did each button slowly never taking her extremely beautiful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān eyes off me.
Finally, with the last button my shirt came open exposing my hard chest.
Arzumand Jahāngīr’s eyes devoured my manly body.
Her hands moved down to my pants sliding them off leaving me in my boxers.
I stepped out of my pants and took off my socks.
I grabbed Arzumand Jahāngīr ‘s hands and put them on my waist pushing them down slowly removing my boxers.
She felt herself gasp looking at me there, completely naked.
My Uncut Hindu Cock was hard again.
Arzumand Jahāngīr smiled modestly.
“Come on; let’s get in the shower, before the hot water runs out.” I said playfully.
We both stepped into the steamy water together.
I stood behind Arzumand Jahāngīr holding her under the waterfall.
I watched her hair get wet as the water hit us.
I ran my hands up and down her young adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān body.
Arzumand Jahāngīr closed her extremely beautiful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān eyes feeling my hands roaming every part of her.
She reached out to grab the spring smelling bar of soap lathering it in her hands.
I grabbed it from her hand.
I glided my hands on Arzumand Jahāngīr’s breasts letting the soap suds run down her chest.
Arzumand Jahāngīr leaned her head back and our lips met for a sensual kiss.
Yes, touch me more. Don’t ever stop Arzumand Jahāngīr thought to herself.
I kept lathering up more soap and ran my hands down Arzumand Jahāngīr’s body making sure she was covered up with soap bubbles.
The scent of soap filled the room reminding us that it was just us, alone in the shower.
Arzumand Jahāngīr turned around letting her extremely beautiful Pakistani Sunni Musalmān eyes meet with me.
She pressed her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān body against my letting the suds get on my body.
We began to kiss losing ourselves under this wonderful rain of water that covered us, protected us from the real world.
The soap was washing off our bodies slowly.
I looked over to my right to grab the bottle of shampoo.
I smiled down at Arzumand Jahāngīr as she looked up at me with admiring eyes.
I poured some of Arzumand Jahāngīr’s apple smelling shampoo on the palm of my hands and placed it on her hair.
Arzumand Jahāngīr chuckled softly as I began to wash her hair.
My hands massaged her head as I rubbed my Uncut Hindu Lund lightly on her hair.
I stared down at Arzumand Jahāngīr.
She was so gorgeous standing there naked as I washed her hair.
Arzumand Jahāngīr tossed her head back slightly letting the water wash off the shampoo.
I just observed this beautiful sight.
The shampoo ran down her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān body slow like honey.
I grabbed the bar of soap again lathering it up once more to start rubbing Arzumand Jahāngīr ‘s excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot with it.
Arzumand Jahāngīr whined softly feeling me washing her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
My hands gently ran up and down her wet slit.
She got a hold of the soap and returned the favor.
She got a handful of suds and placed her hand on my hard Uncut Hindu Cock.
She stroked it up and down washing me up.
I bit my lip enjoying Arzumand Jahāngīr’s touch.
Arzumand Jahāngīr took the bottle of my shampoo and got a handful of it as she started washing my hair.
I laughed as she reached her little arms up lathering up my hair.
I picked her up a little as she wrapped her legs around my waist.
“I love being here with you,” I whimpered.
“I want this moment to last forever, “Arzumand Jahāngīr responded holding me tightly.
I dipped my head under the water letting the shampoo wash off my hair as it fell onto us both.
Arzumand Jahāngīr helped by rinsing my hair out.
I carefully turned around as I carried Arzumand Jahāngīr in my arms.
I placed her back against the tile wall.
“I want to be inside you again Arzumand Jahāngīr.”
Arzumand Jahāngīr kissed me softly.
“Yes. Make love to me again Durgesh.”
I adjusted her young adult Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān body and immediately plunged my Uncut Hindu Cock inside her sensitive excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
Arzumand Jahāngīr let out a loud moan as I entered her once again.
I began to thrust my hips madly as my Uncut Hindu Lund quickly entered and exited her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot.
We kissed passionately as we made love while the water continued to bathe us.
I loved the way Arzumand Jahāngīr’s excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī utmost sacred Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Choot swallowed up my Uncut Hindu Cock.
I could feel her still so tight and warm.
I never wanted to take my Uncut Hindu Cock out of her.
I wanted to be in her eternally.
Arzumand Jahāngīr held on to me tightly as I made love to her.
It was so erotic making love in the shower.
She’d always fantasized about doing that someday, but now that day was here.
She was glad to be able to share it with such an amazing person, DURGESH, her Hindu lover.
“You feel so good. I want to explode in you again, Arzumand Jahāngīr.”
Arzumand Jahāngīr looked at me with love.
“Do it Durgesh, my Hindu Love. Just let yourself cum into me. I want to take it all again.”
A few more thrusts and I felt my Uncut Hindu Cock spurting out cum right inside Arzumand Jahāngīr’s Panjvaqtah Namāzī Pakistani Sunni Musalmān Cunt.
Each shot of my Hindu cum that Arzumand Jahāngīr took from me, made her shudder.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah took out her mobile.
Now Durgesh is needed.
Now Durgesh is needed.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is One Man Woman.
She had gone to the extent to seduce Durgesh herself.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled.
Durgesh was the man who was never accepted as any woman’s stepson, stepbrother or stepfather.
No woman was crazy enough to accept such a platonic relationship with Durgesh ever.
Yet, it was the cold and hard fact that Durgesh never succeeded in it.
Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah smiled once more ironically.
But it was proved ultimately that even they were not faithful to their ardent Musalmān husbands.
Perhaps Durgesh’s own Ammī Ħuzūr was the only woman.
She was Durgesh’s real Ammī.
“Bājī,” Fātimah Muħammad Åbdullah complained, “the great Kħadījah Muħammad can never be a history only, for Durgesh, ever. You are the woman Durgesh loved to marry with. Saiyadah Fātimah PhD Bājī is his wife only because Durgesh’s Pitr’shrī wanted it.”
Kħadījah Muħammad smiled.
“I have complaint against Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself.”
Kħadījah Muħammad laughed.
“Nonsense, Bājī. don’t tell me you also believe it.”*
It felt strange going back to the beginning after everything that’s happened since.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was such a different person now than Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was back then.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was such a goody-goody!
She remembered really thinking that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah loved Al Fātimah Al Zohrah.
I told her so!
I was Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s first real boyfriend.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was 18 years old, a senior in University, but Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was ready to believe anything.
I looked deep into Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s eyes and told Al Fātimah Al Zohrah that I would never leave her.
She sighed wistfully and thought Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was in Heaven.
Little did she know that he just wanted to cop a feel; not that it bugged her or anything, but when things looked like they were going to get purely physical, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah wanted to see how far Ålī ibn Abī Tālib would go for her first?
To be honest, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was not sure if Al Fātimah Al Zohrah would have let him or not.
However Ålī ibn Abī Tālib wouldn’t have been Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s first.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’d let one of the neighboring Hindus, me, up at the cottage the previous summer use and abuse her for a few weeks.
But Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was still a real prick-tease when Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was with me.
Now that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah thinks of it, though, she probably would have at least given me a hand-job if I had only asked for it.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was 5’8″, 120 lbs., and although Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was already 18 years old she know for a fact that she looked quite young for Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s age.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah also knew that she’d certainly turned some heads.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was a petite little hottie.
Most Hindus would do Al Fātimah Al Zohrah without a second thought.
They liked Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s face; high cheekbones, blue eyes, and blonde hair tied back in a bouncy ponytail.
And Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s friend Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ said that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had what she called ” Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān blowjob lips”—nice full ones, made extra sensuous by the glistening cherry-red lipstick Al Fātimah Al Zohrah often wore.
In University one would have thought of Al Fātimah Al Zohrah as the “all-Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān girl”.
No one—no one—would have thought that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah would become the University Panjvaqtah Namāzī Musalmān Sex goddess.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah used to wear long—long—skirts.
Big, baggy blouses and sometimes—when Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was feeling particularly studious—thick horned-rimmed glasses.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was pretty back then, don’t get her wrong.
This isn’t some “She’s So Fine” ugly-duckling-becomes-a-swan story.
No, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was hot even with all that extra clothing on.
But things certainly got a bit more interesting when Al Fātimah Al Zohrah decided to show Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s self off a bit.
The week after Ålī ibn Abī Tālib broke up with Al Fātimah Al Zohrah, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was miserable.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had never been dumped before.
It happened on a Monday morning and all through the week Al Fātimah Al Zohrah just felt depressed.
By Friday the depression had begun to fade and Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was just feeling angry.
Who the hell did he think Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was?
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah could have given the snotty little bastard so much, but because Al Fātimah Al Zohrah wouldn’t shove his cut Musalmān nūnī in Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s mouth the moment he asked for it, he decided Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was no good?
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah decided that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah would make a real effort to show him exactly what he had given up.
The Friday after he had broken up with Al Fātimah Al Zohrah she stayed late at University, working in the library on a paper.
Outside, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah could hear the debate team doing squats, but inside the University was almost completely deserted.
By 5:00, when the library finally kicked her out, the halls were dark and the field outside was quiet.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah went to Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s locker, on the second floor, across from the boys’ locker room.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah could still hear the shower running and one or two voices coming from within, so she knew that Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was not the last one in the University.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah opened Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s locker and slowly began putting her books away.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s mind was still racing and Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was still fuming at the way Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had been treated earlier in the week.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was thinking about the way in which Al Fātimah Al Zohrah would really show Ålī ibn Abī Tālib how big a mistake he had made, when fate provided Al Fātimah Al Zohrah with a perfect chance.
All of the sudden Al Fātimah Al Zohrah heard a high-pitched laugh from within the locker room.
The door slammed open and Al Fātimah Al Zohrah heard a loud “thwack!” split the air.
Clutching a loose towel up against his groin area, Durgesh crashed into the hallway, the tip of another wet, rolled-up towel cracking like a whip behind me.
I was a nice guy.
The University had invited me to deliver some lectures on perfect scientific life today.
I had been Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s lab instructor in Chemistry class the previous semester.
Chemistry was not my subject even in graduation.
I was a Pure Mathematics-Applied Mathematics-Physics student even in my graduation.
Yet, I was requested to instruct them in Chemistry too with the help of their lady Chemistry Professor.
There was a rumor that their lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, had her clandestine sexual relations with me, to the extent that their lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, had even cuckolded her otherwise very respected husband, Professor Åbdul Raħmān Hāshmī.
“So what? He can’t fuck our lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, too, as he fucks my Ammī?” Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ chuckled.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was startled.
She couldn’t imagine a girl talking of her own real Ammī in such a sexy manner.
“Watch your language, Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ.” At length, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah said ultimately.
Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ giggled.
“What’s wrong with my language?”
“Try to say anything about your Ammī in somewhat more descent words.”
“Sālī, every woman fucks a man.” Åāýéshah Siddīqah Sheikħ laughed, “That’s how we come into this world. My Ammī fucked my Abbū and gave birth to me. Similarly your Ammī fucked your Abbū and gave birth to you.”
“And our lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, fucked Durgesh and gave birth to Shubhésh?”
“Tell me another reason why she named her son Shubhésh? Isn’t Shubhésh a Hindu name?”
“You want to say Shubhésh is our lady Chemistry Professor, Ůzrah Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s son from Durgesh?”
“Everyone knows it, you idiot.”*
The raspy Hindu male voice on the other end told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
“I’m coming for you…”
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hung up the phone.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was getting used to the prank calls by this time since they had been happening for at least a month or longer.
Nothing ever came of it.
Some nights Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t even get the calls.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, wasn’t concerned either.
He just figured it was Hindu teens making prank calls.
Unfortunately neither of them knew at the time how wrong they were.
Another month had passed another month of more prank calls, only they were getting worse.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was starting to get frightened.
When Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah about his upcoming business trip Kħadījah Al Tāhirah begged him to either take her with him or not to go at all.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah. “You are going to be fine.”
“But the calls.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah stammered.
“It’s just a bunch of kids trying to scare you. Nothing more. Now will you be grown up about this? Allah, yā Allah! My God, woman, you are 26 years old plenty old enough to stay home a few days by yourself.”
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah just looked at him.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah just wished she could be as calm about it as he was.
A few days later Kħadījah Al Tāhirah asked Muħammad once again to take her with him as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah helped him pack.
“We’ve been over this!!” Muħammad shouted at Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.” Sometimes I feel like I am babysitting a kid instead of married to a grown woman.”
Quietly Kħadījah Al Tāhirah left the bedroom and let him finish packing.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah couldn’t shake the fear growing inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
If anything Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hated being scared the most.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was angry at herself for feeling this way and angry at Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, for not giving a damn.
That night they went to bed both of them their own sides and neither of them was touching the other one.
But that seemed to be the way it went for them anymore.
The alarm went off at 5:30 am.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah opened her eyes to watch as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband dressed.
Even if they were having problems Kħadījah Al Tāhirah still found him very unconcerned.
“Would you like me to make you breakfast before you leave?”
“Just go back to bed. I can get something on the way.”
“I really don’t mind.”
“I said no!”
‘Sad that after only two years of marriage they were at this point.’
Maybe when he gets back they can go to marriage counselling.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah said to herself as she fell back asleep.
Waking up later Kħadījah Al Tāhirah noticed he had left no note of goodbye and that Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t even get a kiss before he left.
“Oh well maybe he’ll miss me and when he gets home we’ll have a great night of sex.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah said with a laugh to the empty house.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t bother to dress.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t see the use.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was home alone and lived in a nice neighborhood.
It was daylight and Kħadījah Al Tāhirah doubted if anyone could see inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s house.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was wrong.
Soon after 10:30 am the calls started coming.
At first they were just the same old calls as before.
But soon they changed and became much more terrifying.
It seemed they came every twenty minutes or so.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was getting angry by the time the calls had continued throughout the day and most of the night.
“Just stop fucking calling me you piece of shit! Why don’t you just go to hell!!!!!”
“Oh I plan on it, but I am going to take you with me.”
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hung up again and stared at the phone as it rang as soon as it was on the receiver.
“Leave me ALONE!!” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah yelled.
“We can’t now. Not after watching your husband leave this morning, KĦADĪJAH AL TĀHIRAH, JĀNUM! We know you are home all by yourself.” He laughed into the phone,” And we’ve loved the show you’ve been putting on all day for us, you little Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut!!”
Panicked now, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah ripped the phone from the wall.
Shaking Kħadījah Al Tāhirah walked to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s bedroom and it was then that Kħadījah Al Tāhirah noticed Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s bedroom window was opened.
She knew Kħadījah Al Tāhirah didn’t open it because Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was running the A/C.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah thought about getting out of the house right then, but quickly realized Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was still naked and ran to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s closet for some clothes.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah should’ve just run outside nude, because when Kħadījah Al Tāhirah opened the closet door Kħadījah Al Tāhirah saw him.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt a hard blow to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s head then nothing…..
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” The voice called to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah struggled and finally got her eyes opened.
“Did you have a nice nap?”
She tried to move her arms but they were held tight by ropes, as were Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s feet.
“Please just let me go.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah begged.
“Not until we’re done with you.”
At the mention of the word WE’RE Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started to panic and pull against the rope.
When Kħadījah Al Tāhirah looked around Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s bedroom Kħadījah Al Tāhirah seen them.
There were six of them.
All of them seemed ready with their pants off and Uncut Hindu Cocks in hand.
None of their Uncut Hindu Cocks seemed to be under seven inches the biggest at least had to ten inches and three inches thick.
She got even more afraid.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, was quite small.
Even fully erect MAYBE two inches only.
They were going to kill Kħadījah Al Tāhirah with their Uncut Hindu Pricks I kept thinking to herself.
“See we could’ve already had our fun with you. Only we wanted to wait until you were awake to be able to see, hear and feel what we are going to do to you. Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, I assure you, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum, we won’t leave one hole untouched by our Uncut Hindu Cock. We are going to rape your extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy first. When that begins to stretch out and get too filled with our Hindu cum, we are going to fuck your Musalmān asshole too. Ever had it in your asshole, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum?”
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah shook her head, “No”.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah wouldn’t let Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, fuck her there.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah had a Hindu boyfriend back in high school who tried it.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hated it.
It hurt so bad Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started crying and told him to pull it out after only the head was inside.
So needless to say hearing them tell Kħadījah Al Tāhirah they were going to fuck Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān asshole and that there was nothing Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could do to stop it this time.
It scared Kħadījah Al Tāhirah worse than them raping Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Never. I would never forget her beautiful, sexy Musalmān mouth. Before tonight is over, you will have six Uncut Hindu Cocks in every Musalmān hole you have at least once. But knowing my group, probably you would have them a lot more than once.”
The group laughed.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started crying even louder.
He bent down and took one of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s nipples in his mouth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was ashamed to admit that if Kħadījah Al Tāhirah closed her eyes and imagined he was someone else it felt really good.
But then he bit down hard on it.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah screamed and Rām Mohan laughed.
“You didn’t think this was going to be gentle, did you??” Rām Mohan laughed a vicious laugh as he started kneading Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s breasts hard and pinching the nipples even harder.
He took his Uncut Hindu Lund and rubbed it on Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s left tit leaving a trail of precum all over Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s nipple.
“Yeah baby we are gonna have fun with you. A lot of fun.” Rām Mohan then got up on the bed with Kħadījah Al Tāhirah and positioned himself between Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful bare Musalmān legs.
He felt Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Oh no we can’t have fun with a dry extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy. Can we, Hindus??”
A chorus of “No’s” came from all the Hindus.
Rām Mohan started to open Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy lips with his fingers and stared at Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān clit.
Finding Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy hole he started to finger fuck her with first two fingers, then moved up to three.
The combination of him rubbing and pinching and even biting on Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s clit and finger fucking her was making Kħadījah Al Tāhirah wet.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel the wetness seep out from between his fingers.
“That’s a good little Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum.” Rām Mohan told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was horrified that he was able to make her wet!
Rām Mohan repositioned himself back between Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s legs and Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel him starting to push inside her with his Uncut Hindu Lund head.
“You ready for some real major Hindu penetration, baby?”
“No please don’t do this.” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s plea fell on deaf ears as Rām Mohan rammed his Uncut Hindu Lund to the hilt inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah screamed.
His Uncut Hindu Lund was so much bigger than Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband; Muħammad’s that his Uncut Hindu Lund hurt!
Rām Mohan pounded in and out of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy several times.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was screaming so loud that one of his buddies had to cover Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth.
“Yeah Whore, how does this feel?? Either your husband is really small or he doesn’t fuck you very often because your extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy is tight as hell!”
The other Hindu men started stroking on their Uncut Hindu Lunds.
All of them were getting more turned on by the sight of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah spread on the bed with this Hindu man’s Uncut Hindu Lund ramming inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
“Please get out of me!!” Kħadījah Al Tāhirah tried to beg but with the hand over Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth it just sounded mumbled.
“Shut her up, Muħammad.” Ram Mohan, who Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could tell was their leader, told the man who was covering Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah watched an evil smile spread across his face as he straddled Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s chest.
So, a Musalmān is also with them?
What an irony.
He was also named Muħammad, as her Musalmān husband was.
“Here, Bitch.” Muħammad held his friend, Shiv Shankar’s, Uncut Hindu Lund to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s now firmly closed mouth.
A strong punch to the side of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s face made her cry out in pain and Muħammad used that opportunity to slide his friend, Shiv Shankar’s, Uncut Hindu Lund deep in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Musalmān mouth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah had never had two Uncut Hindu Lunds inside her simultaneously.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started to feel like a cheap Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum.
Muħammad continued to rape Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s face with Shiv Shankar’s Uncut Hindu Lund as Muħammad raped Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy with a vengeance.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was having trouble breathing between Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s grunts and the Uncut Hindu Lund that was now wedged deep in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s throat.
After a time of them tag teaming her, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started to feel Rām Mohan’s balls tighten as they hit Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful gorgeous Musalmān ass.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knew Rām Mohan was close to cumming.
Since Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad was Musalmān he didn’t believe in birth control and Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started trying to beg him not to cum inside her.
But with the huge Uncut Hindu Lund inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth, it just sounded like more grunts.
After a few more strokes Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel Rām Mohan’s Hindu seed pouring into Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s battered extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel the Hindu warmth fill her.
Not long after his Uncut Hindu Lund shrank up and fell out of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy, Shiv Shankar started filling Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth with his Hindu cum too.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah had no choice but to shallow his Hindu spunk since his Uncut Hindu Lund was still deep in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth.
It was either swallow it or choke.
“Nice ride baby.” Rām Mohan was saying to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah as he wiped his Uncut Hindu Lund on Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s asshole and squeezing his penis so that the last bit of his Hindu cum was lubricating the Musalmān hole.
Then Kħadījah Al Tāhirah saw three more of his Hindu men advanced towards the bed.
One of them, Prabhu Dayāl, untied Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s feet and turned her over.
“Up on all fours, Bitch.” Prabhu Dayāl told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah hesitated and was rewarded with another blow to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s face from the man standing closest to her.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah lifted her lower body up as far as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could since there were still roped tying down Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s hands.
But that was soon to be corrected.
Once Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s hands were free from one of the ropes, one man got under Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s body and lined his Uncut Hindu Lund up with Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy hole.
With one hard upward thrust Prabhu Dayāl was inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
She grunted as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt Prabhu Dayāl’s big Uncut Hindu Lund fill Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy.
Once again Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was filled both in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy and mouth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel Shiv Shankar rubbing something on Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s asshole.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah started trying to move away as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt his Uncut Hindu Lund tearing open Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s gorgeous Musalmān ass.
The burning pain Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān ass obliterated the pain Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt inside Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy and throat.
At once Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knew this was the owner of the ten inch Uncut Hindu Lund.
“I gotta break you in, Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum. How do you like being fucked like the bitch you are?” Shiv Shankar laughed.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah controlled herself.
She stopped the tears from running down her face.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s controlled her nose also from beginning to run as it always did whenever Kħadījah Al Tāhirah cried making it even harder to breathe.
It was a sheer foolishness to accept before these sex obsessed Hindus that she was being humiliated and disgraced.
Let them understand they were actually serving her, instead of humiliating her.
It was the only way to win over the devils.
They are prepared for Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s noncooperation.
Why not cooperate with them?
Her noncooperation with them can’t change the facts even a bit.
The fact is now Kħadījah Al Tāhirah is not a One Man Woman anymore.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah is now their woman whether she liked it or not.
She can’t undo what has been done.
So, why not enjoy it now?
But does it make any difference now?
She has recognized now all the six Hindu scoundrels.
They belong to Shiv Senā.
But actually Shiv Shankar Bachhalyā is a Congressman.
He has put his five men in Shiv Senā and BJP.
She knew it very well.
So, these are the five men Shiv Shankar Bachhalyā has in Shiv Senā and BJP?
Before long Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s body was covered in sweat and Kħadījah Al Tāhirah was making sounds Kħadījah Al Tāhirah had never made before.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel him deep deep in her bowels.
The burning intense pain almost made her pass out again, but the man whose Uncut Hindu Lund was in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth slapped her across Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s face.
“None of that now, baby. I need this Uncut Hindu Lund sucked….Dry!!” Prabhu Dayāl told Kħadījah Al Tāhirah.
The three fucked her for what seemed an eternity.
Finally the one in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy started to cum and watching this the one in Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s mouth soon followed.
He finally, after another ten hours at least, Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Ten long hours? Kħadījah Al Tāhirah couldn’t believe herself she was being fucked now for ten hours continuously nonstop by these Hindu scoundrels.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt him then pull out.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah sighed a relief when he was finally out of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān asshole completely.
Throughout the rest of the night and most of the early morning hours too, not one of Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s Musalmān holes was that wasn’t filled by an Uncut Hindu Lund.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could feel the Hindu cum flowing out of her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī, ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī, Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Pussy like a sink faucet and even Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s distended and open Musalmān asshole couldn’t hold the Hindu cum in, as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah felt it continuously flowing down Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s legs.
The Hindu men took pictures and even made a movie of her while after all this torment Kħadījah Al Tāhirah actually had an orgasm.
They threatened to show them to Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, if Kħadījah Al Tāhirah ever said anything.
They don’t have to worry Kħadījah Al Tāhirah never would.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah never could after Kħadījah Al Tāhirah cummed for these savage Hindu men as many times as Kħadījah Al Tāhirah could.
After this experience, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knew now that she was a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān slut, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah, Jānum, for these six powerful Hindus.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah belong to these Hindu men that visit her regularly now when Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, is out of town or even sometimes while he’s at work.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah can’t even honestly call it rape anymore.
It has turned now into something Kħadījah Al Tāhirah crave.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knows she needs help.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah knows that it isn’t right.
But it’s the truth.
Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s own dark truth.
To make it worse as if it could get worse, now whenever Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad, fucks her, Kħadījah Al Tāhirah have to closes her eyes and pretends she is being gang raped by the group of Hindu men who still visits her often.
And only then can Kħadījah Al Tāhirah cum for Kħadījah Al Tāhirah’s husband, Muħammad.
Not without it.*
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was on the debate team, but was not a mindless athlete.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was pretty smart, actually, and although Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was somewhat popular I didn’t let it get to my head.
The moment I saw her, I fumbled into the hallway, gave a cute little smile, and promptly dropped my towel.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was startled about the incredible situation Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had just been placed in.
Here Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was, newly single, and one of the hottest guys in the University stood before her, naked as the day Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was born.
I winked at her softly before Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s eyes travelled from my, down the length of my torso before they came to rest on the long, thick Hindu mass that was erect now between my legs.
In one moment Al Fātimah Al Zohrah recovered.
“Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Durgesh,” Al Fātimah Al Zohrah whimpered softly. “You’re erect like a rhinoceros.” Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had meant it to sound like a joke, but it only sounded as how she really felt—in total awe.
I stared back in self pride for a few seconds, before my face erupted into an enormous grin.
“Yo, Shankar!” I called over my shoulder. “Come out here and look what I got us!”
My words sent a shiver through Al Fātimah Al Zohrah’s spine.
There was something proprietary, something dangerous about them.
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah didn’t know Shankar, the leaner boy who appeared behind me with the twisted-up towel swung over my shoulder and not a stitch anywhere else on my body.
But he looked familiar; Al Fātimah Al Zohrah was sure Al Fātimah Al Zohrah had seen him around somewhere.
His short buzz cut was unmistakable and was a sharp contrast to my hair.
But my Uncut Hindu Lund!
Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Måshā Allah Subħān Allah my Uncut Hindu Lund!
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah couldn’t stop staring at it, and I caught it on pretty fast.
“Whatcha doing here so late, Al Fātimah Al Zohrah?” I asked, establishing eye contact with Al Fātimah Al Zohrah. I started to walk forward. “A girl could get into a lot of trouble alone here.”
Al Fātimah Al Zohrah decided to play along.
“Oh I know,” she said, feigning innocence. “I hadn’t been the smartest tonight. Why, do you think there might be some
sort of trouble?”*
“Isn’t it a fact?” Dr. Vishñu Dév Mahāmr’tyunjaý was concerned now somewhat.
“Dr. Vishñu Dév Mahāmr’tyunjaý,” Brahmdév Sharmā said to him curtly, “Mahéshvar is a Bachhalyā. Don’t forget Musalmān Beauties were always after Bachhalyās. The entire human history stands to evidence for it.”
Nāzimah Yåqūb smiled.
“Nāzimah Yåqūb,” Dr. Vishñu Dév Mahāmr’tyunjaý smiled too, “You are forgetting the fact that Mahéshvar Bachhalyā is actually married to Brahmdév Sharmā’s sisters, Vipr Mohinī Sharmā, Brahm Mahādévī Sharmā and Brahmvijayā Sharmā.”
“All the three of them?” Nāzimah Yåqūb watched them with a smirk on her extremely beautiful face.
“Well,” Dr. Vishñu Dév Mahāmr’tyunjaý adjusted his body in a different manner on the sofa chair, “Vipr Mohinī Sharmā is actually Mahéshvar Bachhalyā’s duly married wife. But both Brahm Mahādévī Sharmā and Brahmvijayā Sharmā are also his Live in Relationship Partners. You know it very well.”
Nāzimah Yåqūb laughed.
Brahmdév Sharmā felt himself tremendously humiliated.
His wife Jāhnavī Dīxit had demanded Durgesh from him.
Jāhnavī Dīxit smiled.
“Lord Vishñu were also Vr’ndā’s and Tulsī’s nandoī.” Jāhnavī Dīxit winked at her Brāhmañ husband, “yet, he fucked both Vr’ndā and Tulsī. Didn’t he?”
Brahmdév Sharmā looked at his beautiful wife helplessly.
“Jāhnavī Dīxit, am I not enough for you?”
“You are crazy.”
“Neverrrrrrrrrrrrrr.” Brahmdév Sharmā shouted, “Sālī, you are a Brahmkanyā. Never forget it.”
“How foolish and stupid you Brāhmañs are, my dear Brāhmañ husband.” Jāhnavī Dīxit laughed ironically, “You allow Musalmān Beauties to suck you, but not your own Brāhmañ wives. You Brāhmañs are also sick of your religion as the Musalmīn are.”
“Shut up! You bitch.”
Muħammad Yåqūb entered there.
“Hello everybody, Nāzimah, some Kħadījah Al Tāhirah wants to see you.”
Nāzimah Yåqūb smiled at her husband.
“Don’t you know her?”
“I know so many Kħadījah Al Tāhirahs. I don’t know who this one is out of them.”*
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Durgesh Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm
It was just supposed to be a ride home for a casual friend that Muħammad and Kħadījah knew from their local watering hole.
Honestly, that was the intention, but fate?, luck?, happenstance? intervened…
That Friday night was a bit on the slow side at Kħadījah’s what it being the holiday weekend and all that.
Sidrah Aħmad and I were there for Sidrah Aħmad’s a TGIF drink or five.
Sidrah Aħmad wanted to shoot a bit of pool too.
It was mostly regulars in Kħadījah’s that night with a few ‘newbies’ thrown in the mix.
Sidrah Aħmad was taking on challengers on one of the pool tables while I socialized with some of our friends, etc.
On some Fridays, we were usually at a party hosted by some of the swingers that were members of the same ‘social’ club that we belonged to, but, not this night.
Sidrah Aħmad enjoyed the threesomes as a treat.
Of course, she did couples as well, but had you asked Sidrah Aħmad her preference, threesomes would have been her answer.
But this night wasn’t about swinging, at least that’s how it started out.
Around ten or so, Kħadījah’s had thinned out to maybe ten or twelve regulars, one of which was Durgesh, I, an older Hindu in my sixty-two.
At this time, Sidrah Aħmad was thirty-eight and I was sixty-two, not old, but older.
Anyway, I had been around a year or so, having moved here for a new ashvinātam sex adventure, if I could have it.
I was on the quiet side, polite, and very amicable.
I had drifted to Muħammad and Kħadījah’s table.
Muħammad and I taking turns against Sidrah Aħmad on the pool table and sharing drinks and shots.
I was of course participating in with juices, not with alcohol.
Alcohol caused sleep to the Para Conscious mind while Stavans and Trishapt used to awaken it.
Well, actually, we did most of the shots since Muħammad was the DD, the designated driver, and I was nursing my drinks carefully even while taking juices only.
Sidrah Aħmad, as usual, looked splendid; five foot eight, a hundred and ten pounds in a slim, athletic body, and, as usual, braless in a form-flattering tee.
Tiring of playing pool, we all decided to have one last nightcap and leave.
I casually mentioned that I was going to call a cab and get my car tomorrow since Sidrah Aħmad‘d had a ‘bit too much’, so to speak, and needed my car herself.
Muħammad chimed in that they’d be happy to give me a lift to my Ashvinātam Palace, to which, Kħadījah smilingly agreed.
It was as they waited for me to make a pit stop before we left Sidrah Aħmad’s that I noticed, for the first time, the ‘look’ in Kħadījah’s eyes, on her face.
“You get turned on by something?” I kiddingly asked, adding, “Or is it just a bit of the Tequila making you horny?”
Laughing, Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm replied, “Is it that obvious? Damn, I need to work on my poker face,” adding, “that it was a bit of both.”
“Really?” So what turned you on?” Muħammad asked in return.
“You have to admit that Durgesh is a rather cute, young package and you know how I get when I drink Tequila,” Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm smilingly said.
“Hey, Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, I may be cute to you but I’m not a young package anymore.”
“Nonsense!” Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm, thirty-eight only, smiled at me now rather seductively.
“Believe me. I’m sixty two, my dear.”
“Durgesh the multi zillionaire?” Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm confirmed my identity once more incredulously, “Durgesh darling, Hindu Piyā, Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt, hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam, Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties!?”
“Of course,” I smiled, “the same. But I’m sixty two.”
Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm looked at her Musalmān husband, Muħammad,
“What do you say, Muħammad?”
“Well, he is thirty two. Some persons claim he is twenty eight actually.”
Later, a few years down the road, there would be a country song about how “Tequila makes her clothes fall off,” or something like that. That could have been written about Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm.
“Do you want to have a ‘go’ at Durgesh?” Muħammad asked.
She got a pensive look, scrunched up her face a bit, and replied, “I don’t know, what do you think?”
Seeing me emerging from the restroom, Muħammad simply replied, “Play it as you want, baby, I’m game if it goes that way.”
“Damn, ya’ll sure you don’t want me to take a cab so that you can get home,” I said, laughing afterwards.
With a hint of where her head was now, Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm laughed and gave me a quick peck on the lips, saying,
“Well, if I can’t wait until we get home, and since I’m in the company of two good-looking men, I ought to be able to solve my problem, don’t you think?”
She pulled me by my hand towards the door while my alcohol-free brain quickly processed what I had just heard.
Muħammad simply smiled when he looked at me questioningly, following the two of them out of the door.
In his opinion, Muħammad was exchanging his extremely beautiful with me, swinging.
He was giving me an opportunity to fuck his, till now exclusively faithful to him, wife, Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm.
The swingers never knew that most of them were never getting an opportunity to fuck the wife of the opposite man.
But in return, they never got my wife or any of my actual Live in Relationship Partner.
My wife was my exclusive territory.
My only wife.
None without her or my exclusive express permission could even reach her.
She never needed it.
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD loved me for my never compromising Multiversal Humanity, and for nothing else.
Sidrah Aħmad was one of my extremely loyal friends only.
Yes, I fuck Sidrah Aħmad.
Sidrah Aħmad also fucks me.
But that’s all we expect from each other.
An altogether different kind of ethics.
Perhaps no other religion, except Hinduism only, allowed this kind of ethics ever and even praised it.
But Hinduism praised even the atheists dedicating their life for humanity.
Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm flipped up the fold-down armrest in my car.
She slid into the middle of the front seat, pulling me in with her to sit ‘shotgun’.
After I got in and started the car, she casually remarked as she settled in between us,
“Ooooh, between two guys, does it get any better than this for a gal?”
Leaning towards me as I was about to drive away, she gave me a long, tongue-probing kiss.
Breaking off the ashvinātam kiss with me, as Muħammad slipped the car into gear, Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm winked at me, saying,
“Seems like, to be fair, I owe Durgesh a kiss more, don’t you think?” and turning her head towards me , she leaned over and gave me a sweet, soft kiss, her eyes quickly flashing up to Muħammad’s in a questioning look.
Muħammad smiled at her, nodded his head in approval, and drove away as Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm and I continued to kiss.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān hand kept casually dropping onto my thigh as we did so.
Muħammad had already given me directions to his place, which I followed.
The sounds from us indicating that the soft, sweet ashvinātam kiss was getting a bit more intense.
Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm leaned into me once more.
This time with her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān hand behind my head and her awfully lovely outstanding superb Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female body turned more towards me to better facilitate our ashvinātam kiss.
Muħammad glanced over and saw Kħadījah Muħammad Ibrāhīm’s nipples straining the fabric of her tee as we continued to kiss.
Such crazy Musalmīn were never updated.
They were not living in twenty first century at all.
For them the Time Cycle had stopped at Seventh Century, forever.
That’s why such Honor Killings for such backward Musalmīn were not only normal, it was their essence of existence even.
I was always careful about such crazy backward Musalmīn.
Being a multi zillionaire now it was not difficult for me to arrange for my safety and security first.
My wife, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD, Kħadījah Muħammad, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan, Sidrah Aħmad, Imāmzādī Ħumairah Qāzī, and my infinite Posthumans Musalmān Live in Relationship Partners were even more vigilant.
Moreover, every one of them, without even a single exception, was always punished by us, with intense humiliation.
They were made to lick our cum mixed with the cum of their Musalmān houseladies.
They were even compelled to drink our urine mixed with the urine of their Musalmān houseladies and their terrorist Musalmān mouths were being used as our toilets including the toilets for their own Musalmān houseladies too.
They were imprisoned in ultramodern ever-updated Kālchakr Tilism.
They never could run away from there.*
“Hi darling! This is Furqān Ibrāhīm…Furqān Ibrāhīm; this is my stepdaughter, Kħālidah Qamar.”
“Hi Furqān Ibrāhīm. At last, I have the chance to finally meet you. I heard a lot about you!”
Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ, 39, a doctor and a colleague of her Hindu stepfather’s Durgesh at HVSI Hospital.
We had been dating for the past 4 months.
The Musalmān Beauty facing her was pretty and petite.
Kħālidah Qamar guessed she was about 5 feet 4 inches in height and she had the most appealing laughter.
Her Hindu stepfather, I, incessantly made jokes at the table and she realized that I was happy to be with this Musalmān Beauty.
The dinner lasted 2 hours and Kħālidah Qamar genuinely liked Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ.
She was much different from Mumtāz Yåqūb, her mother who had left her Abbū for me, 10 years ago.
Her Ammī, Mumtāz Yåqūb, was a bombshell with huge tits, smoky grey eyes, blonde-ash hair and killer legs.
She could not be a ‘mother’ to Kħālidah Qamar, saying that domesticated life was a prison to her.
One day when Kħālidah Qamar was 9, she came back home from school finding her Ammī, Mumtāz Yåqūb, had packed her suitcase in front of their house waiting for her ‘new Hindu lover, I,’ to take her away.
Kħālidah Qamar was devastated but since Mumtāz Yåqūb was not much of a Ammī to start with, Kħālidah Qamar continued her life happily with her Hindu stepfather, Durgesh, and her loving Hindu dad had become both a Ammī and a father to her.
His numerous Musalmān girlfriends started to take care of Kħālidah Qamar, even if her own immensely Westernized Ammī, Mumtāz Yåqūb, didn’t pay proper attention to her.
She loved me, the Hindu man, with all her heart, who even snatched away her extra ordinary beautiful Ammī, Mumtāz Yåqūb, from her real Abbū.
“Thank you Durgesh, for the pleasant dinner. Thanks to you too Kħālidah Qamar.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ?” We kissed and I walked her to her car.
As we were driving home, Kħālidah Qamar noticed her Hindu stepfather, Durgesh, was ceaselessly talking about Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ.
How nice she was.
How well she could cook.
How caring she was.
How lovely her family was.
Kħālidah Qamar simply smiled and nodded to her Hindu stepdad with every remark that I made about her.
Kħālidah Qamar had to show that she cared about his happiness and Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ, but deep down in her heart, she hated every single second of it.
Kħālidah Qamar loved her Hindu stepfather, Durgesh, more than she even loved herself.
She could not bear the thought that she was going to share this man with Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ.
She did not hate us, but she could not have her Hindu stepfather, Durgesh, finding happiness in the arms of another Musalmān Beauty.
Only she could make her Hindu stepfather, Durgesh, happy, not Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ, as I was the center of her life.
“You are mine Durgesh Papa Jī. I’m your another Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan. I’d provide you everywhere as much sex as you love to have, not that bloody Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ. Never.” She gritted her teeth to herself.
She continued smiling and nodding with whatever I was saying.
At sixty-three even, I looked gorgeously hottest.
With my aquamarine eyes I was making Musalmān Beauties from 15 to 60 years of age drooled over me.
Kħālidah Qamar was quite surprised that I was never tired of dating Musalmān Beauties.
“Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī,…you really like her, don’t you?” She suddenly asked.
“Think so Kħālidah Qamar. I’m so happy that you like her too. You like her don’t you?”
“Yes…I…do. I really do. She’s do different from my Ammī Mumtāz Yåqūb too.”
She noticed my countenance hardened with anger.
I could never forgive Mumtāz Yåqūb for neglecting Kħālidah Qamar; as I really loved her and her betrayal was too much for me.
Even her real Abbū knew that Mumtāz Yåqūb was cheating behind his back.
He did forgive her, but, nevertheless, she could never be a wife to him and an Ammī to his daughter.
Muħammad Qamar Sheikħ was the cuckold Musalmān husband, cuckolded to me by his extraordinary beautiful wife, Mumtāz Yåqūb.
Everyone was talking about Mumtāz Yåqūb me, and still he tried so hard to hold on to his marriage.
However, she finally left him for good.
She did come back and visit him three times for the past ten years, but Kħālidah Qamar hated her so much that their meeting always ended in disaster.
The car pulled into the driveway and stopped.
Her Hindu stepfather, I, was a caring and loving Dad.
I did not even notice.
I then kissed her on the temple lovingly before I opened the door and went out.
She brought her fingers on the temple and touched where my lips kissed her skin while her other hand grasped her breast that was inflamed by her Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī’s touch.
My knock on the car window brought her back to her senses.
She was relieved that the window was tinted.
I opened the door for her and we walked hand in hand into the house.
I directly went into my reading room while Kħālidah Qamar went into the kitchen to have a glass of water.
When, she came out from the kitchen her Hindu stepfather, I, was at the bottom of the stairs on my way up to my bedroom.
“Durgesh Papa Jī? Can you please carry me up to my room like we used to?”
“Really Kħālidah Qamar? You’re too old for that. You’re 19 for Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā‘s sake!” I smiled.
“Oh…come on Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī. Please!” She begged and she knew that her Durgesh Papa Jī could never say no to her whims.
She was deliriously happy as she could straddle her Hindu stepfather, I, facing my handsome face.
Her lean legs were around my Hindu waist while her arms were around my neck.
She put her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān head under my chin and drank the scent of my Hindu body making her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot quivered and juices started to flow.
She had to control her breathing because the movement made by me, as I was climbing the stairs, rocked and rubbed her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tits and her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot against the material of my shirt.
Her nipples puckered with the contact and her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot oozed more juices.
“Here we are princess.” I lowered her in front of the door to her bedroom.
“Sleep tight.” I kissed her lips and went into my bedroom.*
A flash of light lit her room and a rumble woke her up from sleep.
Kħālidah Qamar used to be frightened of thunderstorms, but no more.
Only she knew this.
I would come to her room and comfort her.
Sometimes, she could sleep in my bed until morning and feel the warmth of my Hindu body enveloping her.
“Allah! Yā Allaaaaah! Durgesh, Måshā Allah! Subħān Allah! Thank God for thunderstorms!” Kħālidah Qamar muttered.
She bolted from her bed and quickly opened the door to her bedroom.
She scurried out from her room and she was joyful when she saw her Hindu stepfather, I, was already walking towards her room.
My chest was deliciously bare and her eyes could not help but stared at my hairy lean Hindu male chest.
“You okay baby?” I asked as I hugged her.
“I…I’m so scared Durgesh Papa Jī!” She cried and wrapped her arms around me and savored the warmth of my body radiating through the sheer silk nightgown she was wearing.
She was not wearing any bra or panties that night; and her nipples were pebble hard under the silk.
Kħālidah Qamar pushed her excellent exquisite perfect firm round plump chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female body deeper into my Hindu male embrace and felt the delicious rapture of her excellent exquisite perfect Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female lust.
“Come Kħālidah Qamar. Let’s go to my room.”
Her Hindu stepfather, I, wrapped her with the soft blanket.
I went to the other side of the bed and came to her side.
“Sleep Kħālidah Qamar. I’m here. Don’t worry.” I kissed the bridge of her nose, put my arm around her and drifted back into slumber.
She waited until I was sound asleep.
Then, she moved closer towards her Hindu stepfather, I, and removed the blanket from both of our bodies.
She then pushed down her nightgown to her tiny waist.
She touched my hand softly.
I did not stir.
She then brought her Durgesh Papa Jī’s Hindu hand inch by inch until it rested on her tit.
“Ah…,” she moaned feeling my warm Hindu hand on it.
Her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot started to drip more of her juices.
Her face came closer to my chest, licked my hairy chest.
I groaned in my sleep and the hand on her tit started massaging and kneading it roughly.
“Ah…Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ…love…you…tits.” I said with my eyes closed.
She raised her excellent exquisite perfect firm round plump chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female body up slightly and guided her other tit to her Hindu stepfather, my warm Hindu lips.
My breath touched her nipple and it puckered even more.
She sucked her breath with the pleasure brought by it.
She then grazed my lower lip with her pebble-hard-nipple and she buckled with the sensation squeezing her legs to pressure her soaked excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her Dad, ‘Durgesh Papa Jī’, slowly opened my lips and kissed hard on her nipple.
I used my teeth to nip on the sensitive bud of her breast with my eyes still shut.
“Ah…oh…Durgesh Papa Jī…ah!” Kħālidah Qamar whimpered and closed her eyes enjoying the pleasure.
Kħālidah Qamar was convinced that I was having the nicest dream as I was massaging and devouring her breasts.
I kept calling her Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ.
I seemed to love the satiny salty tastes of her breast as I kept kissing it hard; and my hand squeezed and kneaded her tit.
She moaned again and she called me Durgesh Papa Jī.
“Yes Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ…call me Durgesh.” I muttered on her breast.
I kissed her nipple hard and used the tip of my tongue to torture the pebble-hard nipple.
She moaned again calling me.
My expression suddenly changed in my sleep, I looked confused.
Kħālidah Qamar quickly closed her eyes, pretending to be sleeping.
My eyes flew opened and I saw my hand was on Kħālidah Qamar’s tit while my mouth on her other tit still kissing.
I seemed unable to stop my actions as I was experiencing the most pleasurable feeling touching my stepdaughter in such a way.
My 19-year-old stepdaughter was practically naked on my bed with her nightgown was now around her waist as it had also risen to her navel.
She had no panties and she was dripping with juices.
My Uncut Hindu Lund quivered with the sight.
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, My God! Kħ…Kħ…Kħālidah Qamar, wake up honey.”
She continued to close her eyes and moaned even louder.
She was happy that her Hindu stepfather, I, had not removed my hand on her tit and she sluggishly moved one hand, pressed it on her Hindu stepfather, My hand that was molding her tit; encouraging me more.
She could feel my Uncut Hindu Lund quivered in my pajama.
“Oh… Kħālidah Qamar…this is not happening.” She could hear me say; nevertheless, I did not take away my hand from her tit.
She opened her legs and nudged me a little with her wet opened excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
I had moved from her tit and looked down her length.
And she could feel my whole body froze.
May be I was shocked with what about to happen.
I was about to fuck my hot Musalmān stepdaughter.
To her disappointment, I slowly removed her hand from hers.
Then, I lifted the hand from her tit and covered my stepdaughter’s navel with the silk nightgown.
I too covered her with the blanket and in the cloak of darkness; she could see I was jerking off my throbbing Uncut Hindu Lund through her semi-closed lid.
I went into the bathroom.
Kħālidah Qamar felt her eyes stung with frustration and turned to her right, with her back to the bathroom.
Her nipples and her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot were still quivering from lust.
She inserted one finger in her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot and fingered herself hard.
She bit her lower lips to prevent herself from moaning loud in her Hindu stepfather, my bed.
She inserted another finger and shuddered with pleasure.
Her mind was spinning with images of her naked Hindu stepfather ramming my Uncut Hindu Lund into her wet excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, into her mouth and she, sucking my Uncut Hindu Lund.
She cum under the blanket and later brought her fingers into her mouth.
Kħālidah Qamar licked the juices.
Her Hindu stepfather, I, came out from the bathroom after sometime and I slipped back into bed.
I was behind her and I drew her closer into my embrace nuzzling her neck.
Suddenly, Kħālidah Qamar felt my tongue licked her neck and nipped her earlobe while my hand grasped her breast.
I for quite some time kneaded her tit and I moved my hand lower and rubbed her mound that was covered with the thin material of her nightgown.
Kħālidah Qamar felt thrilled that I was actually lusting for her.
To her frustration, as fast as it happened, it ended.
She steeled herself from the overwhelming disappointment.
I then kissed her on her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān head, turned to my other side and slept.*
Kħālidah Qamar woke up the next day when she could feel the sun’s ray on her face.
She opened her eyes and quickly searched for her Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī, on her left.
I was not there.
She put her hand on the bed where I had lain and it was cold.
She was frustrated with the knowledge.
She could hear that I had gone downstairs and the kettle was whistling.
She rose from the bed and went to her bedroom.
She washed her face in her small bathroom and brushed her teeth thinking what to do with her Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī,.
When she entered the kitchen, I was facing the window looking out to the garden behind our house.
She crept towards me and hugged my warm body from behind.
She could feel my body froze up.
She pressed her ample tits onto my warm back just to tempt me more.
Her hands deliberately went lower down my abdomen and stayed there.
She could feel how her Hindu stepfather, I, tried to steel myself from her touch.
“Morning Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī!”
“Oh……morning Kħālidah Qamar.”
She then tipped-toed and kissed my left temple and let me go.
“What’s for breakfast?”
I turned to face her and she noted that I was averting from looking into her eyes and I looked flustered.
“Breakfast? Well…What do you want? Toast? Scrambled eggs?
“Toast would be fine Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī.”
Kħālidah Qamar was still in her silk nightgown and she purposely let one strap of the nightgown fell down her shoulder exposing the generous swell of her right breast.
“Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī,? What are doing today?” she asked.
I moved my eyes from the newspaper and she noticed her Dad.
My eyes darted to the swell of her tit, and then to her face, unconsciously back to her tit, and back to her face.
I swallowed hard.
She rejoiced that her plan was set in motion.
“There is some stuff I got to do. Yeah…stuff…things to do.” My eyes glanced at her boobs.
“And…and tonight I’m going out with…with…Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ. We have a movie to catch. You?”
“I wanna stay home today. Maybe do some sunbathing or swimming.”
“Okay… Kħālidah Qamar. Will you excuse me? I want to…to…,”
“To what Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī?”
“To do…stuff, Kħālidah Qamar! Stuff!”
“Are you okay Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī? Did you sleep well last night? You seem…weird.”
“Yes…yes I did sleep well last night. W…why are you asking?” My eyes dilated.
“You’re so restless and fidgety.”
“Fidgety? No!” I rose from my chair and left her.*
She put on her bright yellow bikini; looked at herself in the mirror and smiled.
She went downstairs and went into her Hindu stepfather, my reading room where I was lying on a divan with a cushion under my head reading a book.
She moved to the sofa and her Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī, slowly put down the book on my crotch.
“I’m going for a swim Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī. Wanna join me?”
“Sālī,” I gritted my teeth.
Kħālidah Qamar was gradually becoming bolder with me.
“I want to read this book.” I smiled, “so naturally I can’t join you.”
“Durgesh Papa Jī! Are you sure? It’s about telescopes. Come on Dad, Let’s go for a swim.” She insisted.
“You go Kħālidah Qamar. I’m fine.”
“Oh Dad! Come on…please?” She went down her knees and held my right arm tightly against her bikini clad tits.
She deliberately squished my arm to her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tits.
She tugged my arm so that I could feel her nipples and the softness of her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tits.
Her breasts now were sandwiched between her excellent exquisite perfect firm round plump chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female body and my strong wide Hindu chest.
She could feel I tried to take away my body, but she didn’t allow me to do so.
Now I was trying my best not to breathe hard.
“Please…Durgesh Papa Jī? Swim with me?”
“Try to understand darling. No…I…can’t…no…I don’t want to swim today!”
Kħālidah Qamar rose.
She tugged my left arm to pull me up from the divan.
I was too strong and I resisted.
Kħālidah Qamar pulled again.
I then jerked my arm too strongly.
Her generous tits were on my face while her excellent exquisite perfect chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was exactly on my Uncut Hindu Lund.
It opened her labial lips and my knob was inside before I could do anything.
I couldn’t understand how it happened.
She felt the delicious feeling of my Hindu breath on the soft skin of her excellent exquisite Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān tits.
“Ops Durgesh Papa Jī! I’m sorry.” Kħālidah Qamar raised her excellent exquisite perfect firm round plump chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female body up while holding my shoulders.
My eyes were staring at her spilling dangling tits just inches from my mouth.
She deliberately slipped her hold on my shoulder, making her right tit squashed on my mouth.
I closed my eyes and swallowed a groan.
“So sorry Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī. I’m so clumsy!” the young adult smart Musalmān girl wiggled between my Hindu legs trying to get up and she could feel the wonderful tantalizing feeling of my throbbing Uncut Hindu Lund between her young adult virgin Musalmān labial lips.
She slid to her left and rose from the divan.
She smiled when she saw my Uncut Hindu Lund grew in between her labial lips.
I looked grave with what had just happening between my young adult sweet nineteen smart Musalmān stepdaughter and me.
Nevertheless, Kħālidah Qamar knew that her plan was unfolding itself and her Hindu stepfather, I, now lusted for her.
Yes, I was trying to hide it from her behind my seniority, majority and gravity.
But Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan had trained her properly,
“Don’t let him succeed ever. He is your husband, your lover, and not—NOT your father.”
“But he is forty four years elder to me.”
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiled mischievously,
“It does not make his Uncut Hindu Lund limp for you, idiot.”
Saiyadah Fātimah PhD smiled,
“I want all of us, his entire Musalmān stepdaughters I mean, his Live in Relationship Partners.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan announced, “Durgesh is our Hindu husband, NOT our Hindu father. We are not responsible that our Ammīs joined his bed before us.”
The entire episode whirled before her eyes and that made her so thrilled and happy.
“Fine Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī.” Kħālidah Qamar suddenly changed her strategy, “I’ll swim by myself.”
She said after sometime and left the reading room.*
Suddenly I heard her scream.
“Help! Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī! Help me!” She screamed and bobbed her excellent exquisite perfect firm round plump chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female body in the water.
“Durgesh Papa Jī! Help me…Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī!”
She could hear the door being opened roughly and sank her excellent exquisite perfect firm round plump chubby Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān young adult female body deeper into the swimming pool.
Within seconds, she could feel my arms around her waist and pulled her out from the pool.
I was breathing hard and I looked worried.
I wiped her hair away from her face and touched her face.
“You okay…baby? What…happened?”
“Where?” Her Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī, glided my hands on her wet legs.
“The right one.”
I then kneaded and massaged her right thigh.
From her knee, I slowly kneaded the muscle up to the juncture of her thigh.
My eyes all of a sudden looked into her.
“Kħālidah Qamar …your muscles are okay.” There was a long pause. “Your muscles are not experiencing any cramps…right?” her Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī, asked.
“I do have cramps in my muscle Durgesh Papa Jī. Here.” She grasped my hand on her thigh and pressed it onto her wet soaking mound covered with the flimsy yellow bikini.
She then pressed her legs tightly together and moaned.
I snatched my hand away and rose to my feet.
I was breathing hard and my eyes were clouded with immensely suppressed lust for her.
Kħālidah Qamar could see my Uncut Hindu Lund swelled in my wet trousers.
I covered my face with my hands, turned around and sat on one of the lounge chairs near the pool.
“What’s wrong with me? And…What’s gotten into you Kħālidah Qamar? If you hate Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ, just tell me. Y…you don’t have to do this.”
“Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, Oh…God! What is happening to me? I am lusting over my own stepdaughter!” I whimpered looking up to the blue sky as if asking to Eīshān Param Brahm Paramātmā, the God, why I couldn’t I control this lust for my young stepdaughter.
Kħālidah Qamar gradually rose from her spot and walked towards me.
I was still distraught by my reaction and my young adult sweet nineteen smart Musalmān stepdaughter’s actions.
She knelt near my legs and held my left thigh.
“Dad, Durgesh Papa Jī…I don’t hate Furqān Ibrāhīm Sheikħ. Really. But…I want…you.” Kħālidah Qamar acknowledged to me bravely.
My eyes flew to her face.
“I always wanted you Durgesh Papa Jī. And…and… I just can’t lose you to her!” her eyes were welling with tears.
“Oh KĦĀLIDAH QAMAR! You don’t want me. I’m your stepfather. I’m old, not young like…Pragýésh.”
“I dumped him Durgesh Papa Jī! he never fucked me. When he tried to, I refused him even to allow touching me. I could only imagine that it was your Uncut Hindu Lund inside me Durgesh Papa Jī always. Filling my Panjvaqtah Namāzī young adult Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot!”
I was dumbfounded.
I never imagined Kħālidah Qamar could go to this extent ever.
Why have I to be defeated always by my own wives?
Entire Brahmarshis supported her, not me.
They succeeded in making the new law:
‘Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté.’
‘Only Savarñā wife is constituted for Shūdr, none else.’
—Manu Smr’ti: 9|157
Sherza succeed then.
And the same Time Cycle is once again making herrza victorious in her every movement:
‘Al Jihād no incest’
Satī Dāxāyañī Brahmāpautrī succeeded then.
Now, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is succeeding.
The Time Cycle is helping her in almost her every movement.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī had to fly to Ved Nagar from Miami.
His Ammī had returned to Ved Nagar.
His daughters also accompanied him.
They reached Ved Nagar even sooner than Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī had anticipated.
Saiyadah Fātimah Muħammad PhD retorted,
“Yes, I can see Bājī. You live here now.”
“Not only myself. It’s a City of Parahumen and zillionaires. Believe it or not, there are persons now who suspect this City is the Capitol of HVS.”
“Allah, Bājī, you and your Durgesh addiction.”
“It’s Scientific Achievement, my dear. They say: ‘There wasn’t any Mi’raj. It isn’t possible.’ Nonsense.”
Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī wanted to do all the foolish things a son did to his Ammī after a separation.
“Time Traveler, I’m not your Ammī. I’m your Ammī’s very very personal lady robot.”
Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī couldn’t believe his eyes.
He would have jumped showing his immense surprise if the lady robot hadn’t requested him,
“Your Ammī doesn’t want this secret known to anyone except yourself.”***
Muħammad Åbbās Hāshmī couldn’t afford to look his daughters even.
He doubted he might give away to his daughters.
It would not be in accordance his Ammī’s plans.
“It’s good to see you, Ammī, again.” He managed to say somehow.
He didn’t know even when the lady robot exactly identical to her was made by his Ammī.
He knew however his Ammī herself had time traveled when she was nineteen only.
Her finger closed to a comfortable but not painful pressure and then released it.
Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī hoped earnestly that the creature’s unreadable eyes could not penetrate his mind.
Allah, did his own mother wanted to keep more efficient eyes on him?
Why otherwise she had sent her very personal robot to welcome him?
Dr. Saiyadah Āmnah was a mystery herself.
He pinched himself.
No, he was not dreaming.
He was very much awake.
It was surprising to him that even after knowing that it was not his Ammī, a lady robot instead, all of him was still concentrated into a feeling of an intense love for his Ammī.
He never believed that his Ammī fed him her vaginal juices mixed with my Hindu Vīrý instead of milk ab initio.
But, yes, since he came to his own senses, Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī was licking his Ammī’s vaginal juices mixed with my Hindu Vīrý.
There was a rumor that his Ammī was preparing to claim that she was Ummil Rasūlallāh Ħuzūrsreincarnated.
He had laughed.
“Then perhaps she is preparing to claim myself Ħuzūrs himself.”
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr looked at him gravely.
“I won’t be surprised if Ammījān claims it.”
“Nonsense.” Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī thundered at his ever best friend.
“I haven’t told you something myself, Muħammad.”
Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī laughed ironically.
“Don’t tell me that your Ammī is also doing the same thing with you too.”
“No, but someone else is performing that role for her.”
“What?” Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī was startled.
“My wife.” Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr said gravely.
Muħammad Åbdullah Hāshmī smiled,
“I see. That’s why your services are obtained?”
“Keep it to yourself.”
“Tell me one thing if you know.”
“There is a rumor that Ammījān is planning to claim she is…”
“Is it right?”
“If it is, it’s part of the amendment of time cycles.”
“You don’t know?”
“I’m told only what she thinks necessary.”
It was not good to whisper in the presence of his daughters.
“Ten thousand robots per human is the current ratio.”
“All of them are lady robots ?”
“Allah, isn’t it costly in itself, ‘Ten thousand robots per human’, I mean?”
On the surface, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was just a grand looking Turk Musalmān woman in her early thirties.
An extremely beautiful face with long, black hair and distinguishable Arabian features inherited from her Ammī.
She always wore lose fitting clothing that hid her figure pretty well.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā considered it shameful to show herself in public, a result of years of Orthodox Muslim school teaching.
She had remained almost a virgin until her late twenties when she married her husband.
And even with him, her idea of sex was that of a quick missionary-style fuck.
She would never allow him to go down on her, or even entertain the thought of sucking him.
Although she did desire to cum herself during sex.
But usually had her husband rub her clit with his fingers to bring her to climax before having him mount her for a quick session.
In addition to being conservative, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was also quite a snob.
Her family had done well for themselves over the years, and being rich, she did not have to worry about finances ever.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā always considered herself a step above those around her.
So it was easy for her to quit working once her husband completed his residency and became a staff surgeon in a local hospital.
Unfortunately, his job required him to attend several medical conferences each year, often leaving Jamīlah Bū Pāshā home alone.
Little did she know that one of his reasons for going alone was to often find someone to pleasure him as a gay since he couldn’t declare his being a gay at home.
On Friday morning, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā dropped her husband off at the airport.
He was flying to Kansas to spend the weekend with his Ammī, then off to Washington for a two-day conference.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was planning to leave early the next morning for a couple nights away at a hot springs spa herself and would no doubt be out of contact with her husband until Monday night.
On her way home from the airport Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had the misfortune of getting a flat tire.
She managed to reach a service station.
She waltzed into the service bay and requested that someone replace her tire.
The attendant politely took her information but when he didn’t move quickly enough for her, she became demanding to the point of being insulting.
Moreover her attitude showed.
Still, the 18-year old Hindu attendant took down her information, then slowly, very slowly, had her tire repaired and replaced back onto the vehicle.
Instead of being grateful, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā called the manager to task for hiring such a dim-witted idiot to work there, paid her bill, and left.
Shankar Mahā Rudr did not like the way he was treated by Jamīlah Bū Pāshā one bit.
He detested arrogant Musalmān women like her.
And hearing her complaints to his manager had made things worse.
Shankar Mahā Rudr stewed over the incident the rest of the day.
Then decided that he wanted to get revenge.
Shankar Mahā Rudr had overheard Jamīlah Bū Pāshā on her cell phone while she was waiting.
He heard her mention that her husband was out of town and that she was going to be out of town as well.
Shankar Mahā Rudr went to the file cabinet and pulled out the day’s tickets, finding hers he took note of the address.
A pretty nice neighborhood a little more than sixty-miles from where he lived.
Shankar Mahā Rudr guessed that she probably only drove this far from home when she needed to go to the airport.
Thinking that her home would be empty for the weekend, Shankar Mahā Rudr decided to call a few of his Hindu buddies and pay the house a visit.
He thought that when she returned home to find the place ransacked and robbed that she would have a taste of what it felt like to be abused by someone.
Shankar Mahā Rudr was under educated as most of the Musalmīn were.
Shankar Mahā Rudr had discovered his real Hindu father was a multi-millionaire.
That night Shankar Mahā Rudr picked up three of his friends: Mohan Giridhar and Vikram Āditý, two cousins, ages 19 and 18, who had grown up with Shankar Mahā Rudr, and Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī, a tall Hindu kid who had dropped out of high school and spent a couple years wandering from town to town before settling down in their town.
At 21, Mohan Giridhar was the oldest of the group.
They drove the sixty miles to where Jamīlah Bū Pāshā lived.
Passed through the neighborhood checking things out.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī had plenty of experience with breaking and entering and offered his best advice.
He was particularly pleased to see that the house they targeted was pretty secluded with a nice long driveway.
Thick woods blocked one entire side from view from the street.
They pulled into the driveway, cut the lights and engine, and coasted down behind the trees and rolled off into the grass beside the garage where their car would be hidden from view.
There were no lights on in the house, or on any of the other nearby homes.
Not surprising for 2:00 am.
To avoid any possible alarm system they climbed a tree in the back yard and hopped onto the awning over the patio.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī found the bathroom window and used a small, thin piece of metal to slip it through the crack and unlock the window.
Then the four Hindu men slid easily into the bathroom and began creeping down the hall.
Finding the bedroom first, they walked in.
Since this was on the backside of the house, they didn’t worry about light and flicked the switch.
To their shock and surprise, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was asleep in the bed.
When the light came on, she awoke with a start.
She jumped from the bed screaming.
She was dressed in a thin nightgown that did little to hide her extremely beautiful Turk Musalmān assets.
Her ample Turk Musalmān breast swayed under the material and her blue panties were clearly visible.
“Oh fuck!” Shankar Mahā Rudr yelled out upon their discovery.
Both Junior and Vikram Āditý stood frozen in near panic.
If not for Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī Jamīlah Bū Pāshā probably would have been able to rush out the door and perhaps make it to safety.
But the big Hindu man, acting with the instinct of one who had perhaps been in such situations before, jumped before her, wrapping his thick Hindu arms around her body and dove onto the bed pinning her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body beneath him.
When Jamīlah Bū Pāshā tried to scream again Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī shoved a pillow over her face.
“Shit! Someone get me some fucking rope or something!” Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī yelled, trying to hold the kicking Turk Musalmān woman in place.
“Where?” Shankar Mahā Rudr replied.
“How the fuck do I know!” Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī yelled back. “Look around!”
The three Hindu men ran out of the room tossing open closets and other things.
Finally returning with some power cords, a short piece of string and some duct tape.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī sat on Jamīlah Bū Pāshā’s stomach while the other guys grabbed her hands and feet.
First, he needed to shut her up.
Reaching back he spotted her panties and with a quick, violent tug, ripped them off her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body and shoved them into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth before using the duct tape to cover her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
Successfully muffling her cries for help.
Then he rolled her over and used one of the cords and some more duct tape to secure her arms behind her back.
After tying her up, the four Hindu men stood over the bed.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā lay on the bed in fear.
She realized that, her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy was exposed.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā closed her legs tightly trying to keep it hidden.
But there was little she could do about covering her thick black bush.
Fortunately, for Shankar Mahā Rudr she did not recognize him at all.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had long ago chosen to not look those who were beneath her in the face unless necessary, and therefore had no remembrance of what the kid at the service station looked like.
“Damn, this Turk Musalmān Bitch has a fine body on her.” Vikram Āditý commented.
Shankar Mahā Rudr couldn’t help but agree.
He did not remember her looking this good this morning.
But then again, she wasn’t half-naked then either.
Then Shankar Mahā Rudr got an even better idea.
“Let’s really show Miss Rich-Extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Bitch a lesson tonight.” He suggested as he leaned forward and took her left Turk Musalmān breast into his hand.
When Jamīlah Bū Pāshā began to roll away in protest Shankar Mahā Rudr squeezed it tightly causing her to gasp in pain.
“Yeah, I think we should all fuck the hell out of her.” Mohan Giridhar suggested.
He got no disagreement from the other three.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā began kicking frantically as they all jumped on the bed and began groping her.
She screamed against the gag as they tore her nightgown from her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was pinned down by them as they probed her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body.
She felt an Uncut Hindu Penis shove up into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy and began thrashing about.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had allowed a couple Hindu boys to fuck her in high school.
But she told others that only her husband’s hands had explored her in full detail.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā reacted in horror to the experience going on now.
She was being sexually manhandled by four Hindu street punks, and one of them was Karosiā!
“I want her first.” Shankar Mahā Rudr yelled as he stood and removed his clothes.
Had it not been for the gag Jamīlah Bū Pāshā’s shrieks might have been heard throughout the neighborhood when she saw the young man climbing between her legs with his stiff 8-inch Hindu erection.
He dropped between her legs and began kissing her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy.
She felt him sucking and licking her awfully lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Clit and could feel it enlarge.
Then she felt her own juices begin flowing freely and she reddened from head to toe.
Once satisfied that she was wet enough Shankar Mahā Rudr climbed up.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā tried to resist but was unable to move as he lowered himself onto her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body.
Her arms were pinned beneath her back and Shankar Mahā Rudr was firmly between her extremely beautiful Musalmān legs.
She felt his Uncut Hindu Cock rub between her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy lips, easily gaining entrance against her will.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā cried out in a mixture of fear, anger and humiliation as this Hindu punk become only the second person to put his Uncut Hindu Cock into her.
Shankar Mahā Rudr began ramming his Uncut Hindu Cock into her at will.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā could not believe this was happening to her.
She had always guarded her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body.
Saved herself for marriage and committed herself to one man.
Shankar Mahā Rudr cared little for how Jamīlah Bū Pāshā might have felt.
All he knew was that he was getting revenge on this stuck-up extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Bitch for all the women like her who have treated him like that.
Shankar Mahā Rudr knew that after tonight she would think twice before looking down on anyone else.
Shankar Mahā Rudr continued pounding her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy mercilessly, waiting for his moment of release.
Soon he could feel his Hindu balls tightening and knew that he would soon be cumming into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy.
“Jamīlah Bū Pāshā, Shankar Mahā Rudr gonna cum in you now!” He cried out.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā tried to scream in protest.
She couldn’t bear the thought of him releasing his Hindu sperm into her.
What if she would get pregnant?
She couldn’t let that happen.
But there was nothing she could do.
Shooting deepest inside her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy.
Never letting up until he could feel his Uncut Hindu Dick softening inside her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy.
“Come on, man. Let me at her.” Mohan Giridhar demanded as Shankar Mahā Rudr took his time dismounting Jamīlah Bū Pāshā.
As soon as he was up, Jamīlah Bū Pāshā tried to roll off the bed in hopes of escape only to be grabbed by Mohan Giridhar and forced back onto her back.
“You ain’t going anywhere, baby.” He said as he began unbuckling his pants.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā looked on in fear as his Hindu manhood came into view.
While not quite as long as Shankar Mahā Rudr’s, Mohan Giridhar was noticeably thicker.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā gasped as she felt him filling her insides.
Mohan Giridhar buried his Uncut Hindu Cock into her, ramming her repeatedly with his Hindu tool.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was disgusted by the homely Hindu man grunting and slobbering over her.
As Mohan Giridhar pounded her, his cousin got down and began sucking her right nipple.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā fought back tears as she found herself raped for the second time in minutes.
Worse, she could feel her insides betraying her.
To her horror, she discovered that something inside her was beginning to tingle with a pleasure she never felt before.
But he was enjoying it too much and felt the Hindu cum rising in his Uncut Hindu Cock, ready to be released.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā saw the Hindu man above her begin to clench his jaw and knew that he was about ready to cum.
She tried thrusting her hips hoping to throw him off her before he came but there was no use.
As Mohan Giridhar got off her and his cousin climbed on Jamīlah Bū Pāshā saw Shankar Mahā Rudr and Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī standing at the end of the room watching.
One of them had apparently visited the kitchen and had brought up several of her husband’s beers and a bottle of bourbon and the two men were drinking and toasting Mohan Giridhar’s orgasm.
As Vikram Āditý dropped his pants Jamīlah Bū Pāshā tried to prepare herself mentally for her third rape of the night.
Vikram Āditý was smaller and thinner than both of the other men who had already fucked her.
More like her husband was.
Vikram Āditý sank his Hindu shaft into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy and began fucking rapidly.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā knew that at this rate he wouldn’t last long but got little relief from that fact.
For as soon as he began, she felt her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy beginning to tremble with extreme delight.
She cursed under her breath and silently begged her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān body not to respond.
But her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy refused to listen.
Her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy spasmed as the first wave or her orgasm shot through her.
She blushed in shame as she realized that the man above her knew that she was coming on his Uncut Hindu Cock.
“Shit, guys, she likes it!” He called out.
The thrill of having her climax under him was the final stimulation for Vikram Āditý and he released his own Hindu wad into Jamīlah Bū Pāshā’s extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān pussy.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā lay still as Vikram Āditý got off her.
She had just orgasmed to only the second man in her life.
And now she had given up on fighting.
At least she had until she saw Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī drop his pants and come stand before her.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had hoped that the Hindu man would not take a turn with her.
And when she saw his massive 12-inch Uncut Hindu Cock springing forth from his pants she panicked.
She knew that she couldn’t take something that large in her without receiving permanent damage.
Her scream could be heard through her gag as Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī mounted her.
He shoved his thick Hindu tool into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy.
Making sure to let her see every inch sink slowly in.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā’s eyes bulged as he crammed the rest into her.
Her extremely ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān insides were wracked with pain as Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī rammed the last inch into her and began fucking the poor Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān woman .
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā could not believe that he could have fit inside her.
In addition to his Hindu length, he must have been twice as thick as Mohan Giridhar.
As he fucked her she feared that her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy would tear apart.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī was enjoying shoving every inch into the Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān woman.
He leaned forward and began kissing her cheeks as he slammed home with every Hindu thrust.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā turned her head from side to side trying to avoid his Hindu mouth.
Then her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān eyes bulged as she caught herself beginning to climax again.
She had never cum twice in one night before.
Her breath became short and quick as the giant Uncut Hindu Cock in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy came closer and closer to putting her over the edge.
Then her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Pussy exploded, her lips squeezed the Hindu shaft around her as she began moaning with surprise delight in what was her strongest orgasm ever.
As she was still cumming she felt the Hindu man above her begin to twinge.
Her orgasm ended as she realized that he was going to cum inside her.
Nārāyañ Chakrdhārī thrust harder as he began filling Jamīlah Bū Pāshā with his Hindu cum.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā had just been raped by four Hindu men in her own bedroom.
Worse, she had somehow allowed herself to have two orgasms.
She thought nothing could be worse until she opened her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān eyes and saw Shankar Mahā Rudr standing there with her camcorder getting a close-up shot of her well-fucked pussy lips.
She had no idea when they had found it, but now they were using it to film her humiliation.
“Let’s have some more fun here.” Shankar Mahā Rudr said.
“Maybe we should leave.” Vikram Āditý said. “Before we get caught here.”
“Fuck that,” Shankar Mahā Rudr said. “This extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Bitch is alone all weekend and everyone thinks she’s out of town. So who’s going to come by and catch us?”
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā could have died.
She had thought this was the end of it.
But somehow these guys knew that she was supposed to leave town in the morning.
Somehow these guys knew her.
And worse, they weren’t planning on leaving yet.
“Ungag her.” Shankar Mahā Rudr ordered.
Mohan Giridhar and Vikram Āditý ripped the duct tape off of Jamīlah Bū Pāshā’s mouth and removed her panties.
She caught her first easy breath since her ordeal began.
“You want us to leave you alone, lady?” Shankar Mahā Rudr asked her.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā nodded her head ‘yes’.
“Fine,” he said. “But first we need some assurance that you won’t call the cops on us.”
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā would agree to anything to get rid of them.
But she had no intention of calling the police.
She couldn’t live with the thought of her neighbors knowing that she had been brutally fucked by these Hindu punks who were useless in their own country India and came here to get their sustenance.
“All you have to do is suck each of our Uncut Hindu Cocks while we film you. Then if you tell anyone this tape will be sent to everyone on your street.”
“Fuck you!” Jamīlah Bū Pāshā shouted.
She had already suffered enough; there was no way she was going to let any man stick a filthy Uncut Hindu Cock in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
“Very well then. We’ll stay here and fuck you all weekend. And we’re going to make you suck our Uncut Hindu Dicks anyway.” Shankar Mahā Rudr told her.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā cringed.
She knew that he would make good on his promise.
She realized that she was going to have to suck their Uncut Hindu Cocks one way or the other.
And she knew that they would repeatedly rape her and probably video tape the whole ordeal as well.
She swallowed hard and agreed to do it.
Mohan Giridhar untied her hands and sat on the side of her bed.
“On your knees, extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān Bitch.” He ordered.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā dropped down to her knees and found herself facing his hard Uncut Hindu Cock.
She gulped hard as Mohan Giridhar grabbed her head and pulled it closer to him.
She refused to open her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth at first.
Mohan Giridhar banged his Uncut Hindu Cock against her tremendously attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān face.
She could see the camera focused on her and gave up, opening her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth and allowing the first Uncut Hindu Cock in her life to enter her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
She closed her lips and began slowly moving her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth along his Hindu shaft.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā kept her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān eyes closed afraid that she would begin crying if she opened them.
She wasn’t prepared for his Hindu orgasm.
Mohan Giridhar’s first Hindu blast caught her in the back of the throat.
The warm, salty, thick Hindu fluid filled her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
She tried to pull away but Mohan Giridhar held her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female head tight, spewing his Hindu cum into her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female throat.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā was forced to swallow to keep from choking on the Hindu sperm that continued to spout into her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth.
When Mohan Giridhar finally pulled out, she leaned over and began coughing; only barely avoiding vomiting on the floor.
“My turn.” Shankar Mahā Rudr said as he handed the still rolling camera to Mohan Giridhar. “Make sure not to get any of our faces.”
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā opened her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth and took him in and began sucking again. “Oh yeah, bet you really like having a poor Uncut Hindu Cock in that rich Turk Musalmān woman mouth of yours.” He taunted.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā couldn’t believe she was doing this.
But she decided to do her best to get these scoundrels to cum in her extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān mouth and leave.
She began working Shankar Mahā Rudr’s Uncut Hindu Cock as best she could, ignoring his degrading comments as she was forced to service him.
She could feel him beginning to cum but didn’t realize that he was going to slam forward.
Jamīlah Bū Pāshā felt the head of his Uncut Hindu Cock hit the back of her extremely lovely Panjvaqtah Namāzī Turk Musalmān female throat just as his Hindu seed began filling her extremely beautiful Panj