Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
I smiled at Dashrath Bhārgav.
“But Dad, what’s wrong in it, even if I can’t return or enter Chaturvédī Brahm Ayodhyā Creations for fourteen years?”
Dashrath Bhārgav looked at me as if he had lost everything whatsoever he had.
“You should have asked Sumant why he was sent to bring you here, instead of any lady robot. Should you haven’t, Durgesh?”
Prime Minister, Sumant Chaturvédī, looked gravely at Dashrath Bhārgav.
Then he looked at me,
“Durgesh, my dear boy, you are my son in law too. Aren’t you? I thought it was better to bring you myself here instead of some bloody lady robot that doesn’t have any human heart.”
Kaikéyī Mukherjī smiled cunningly.
“Son, Durgesh, your father in law, Dashrath Bhārgav is afraid of me very much that my son Bharat Chaturvédī may let me establish Communism here.”
Dashrath Bhārgav looked at me,
“Param Purush, now even you can’t say I am wrong. You always favored Kaikéyī Mukherjī even on Kaushalyā Mukherjī and Sumitrā Chatterjī. Now you can see yourself what Kaikéyī Mukherjī is doing. I agree she could not influence you. But she could have certainly influenced Bharat Chaturvédī if we were not vigilant enough.”
Prime Minister, Sumant Chaturvédī, immediately seconded Dashrath Bhārgav,
“Mr. President is right, son. The first lady of Chaturvédī Brahm Ayodhyā Creations, Kaikéyī Mukherjī, does not deserve this honor. She has herself proved it now.”
I looked at Prime Minister, Sumant Chaturvédī, Dashrath Bhārgav and Kaikéyī Mukherjī, all the three present there with me.
I understood it very well that despite my continuous constant nonstop attempts, I could not replace Dashrath Bhārgav here as I had successfully in Bhārgav Brahm Ayodhyā Creations.
Dashrath Chaturvédī helped me there unknowingly in amending the ever ancient time cycle of ending Trétā Yug.
But Dashrath Bhārgav here, in Chaturvédī Brahm Ayodhyā Creations, was more prudent.
It was not easy to replace him.
Dashrath Bhārgav tried to save me here more prudently, even at his own cost.
The problem was his less knowledge and experiences that he could not help.
He was more prudent than Dashrath Chaturvédī.
Even his intensions were better.
But due to these better intensions themselves, he had, he never tried to protect himself.
He tried to protect me instead.
Even then, it was better Dashrath Bhārgav was not in panic or depression as my original body, projected from my Kashyap body was in the ending Trétā Yug.
“Dad, Ārý Sumant, I brought Justice Hémā Bhārgav back to Bhārgav Brahm Ayodhyā Creations and successfully changed the time cycle there. Hémā Bhārgav helped me there successfully because President Dashrath Bhārgav was prudent enough to let his daughters study the time cycle of ending Trétā Yug.”
Dashrath Bhārgav smiled ruefully,
“No, my son, my son in law, it was not actually my prudence that helped you there. It was Padminī Bhārgav’s prudence instead that you always criticize as being a communal prudence.”
“Oh, come on, Dad, Mr. President, there are infinite Brahm Ayodhyā Creations now. The ever devotional traditional Brāhmañs are keeping the time cycle of ending Trétā Yug alive projecting it ever more everywhere than any other society.”
Prime Minister, Sumant Chaturvédī, interrupted,
“Pardon me, Vats Durgesh, you almost always blame us traditional Brāhmañs for keeping alive the projections of ending Trétā Yug in almost entire infinite Creations. But tell me one thing. Even if your theory is correct, aren’t our infinite Brāhmañ Creations better than the non Brāhmañ Creations, even if there is chaos here? Aren’t the non Brāhmañ Creations facing even worse chaos than we are? Yes, my childhood friend, President Dashrath Bhārgav couldn’t stop our first lady Kaikéyī Mukherjī from sending you in exile here, but he has successfully helped you here in attaining your Svarūpé Avasthānam, hasn’t he?”
“Of course, Dad, Prime Minister, Ārý Sumant, but is that enough?”*
Kaikéyī Mukherjī looked at Prime Minister, Sumant Chaturvédī, cunningly.
“Ārý Sumant, you don’t need to answer Durgesh here. If you really want to answer him and discuss this ‘very important’ matter any further, please leave Chaturvédī Brahm Ayodhyā Creations with him too for as many days as it is necessary for you. Don’t worry, you can return to Chaturvédī Brahm Ayodhyā whenever you want to. At present, I don’t want to listen to any more discussion between Durgesh and you.”
Dashrath Bhārgav whirled furiously at his Prime Minister, Sumant Chaturvédī,
“Sumant, my ever best childhood friend, can’t you see she is afraid of herself?”
“Afraid of herself, Mr. President?” Prime Minister, Sumant Chaturvédī, looked at Dashrath Bhārgav quite surprised.
“Sure, certainly, why not?” Dashrath Bhārgav said sarcastically, “Your first lady, Kaikéyī Mukherjī, knows very well that it’s not Rām Chaturvédī she had brought up here. He has attained his Svarūpé Avasthānam now.”
“Svarūpé Avasthānam, hell,” Kaikéyī Mukherjī laughed smirking Dashrath Bhārgav, “You have simply kidnapped my son, Rām Chaturvédī, and Durgesh has taken his place. That’s why my husband Dashrath Chaturvédī was sent to Bhārgav Brahm Ayodhyā Creations and you were brought here. What do you think, Kaikéyī Mukherjī was born yesterday? I want Durgesh in exile from Chaturvédī Brahm Ayodhyā Creations, not because I want my son Bharat Chaturvédī to head Chaturvédī Brahm Ayodhyā Creations, but because I want to destroy HVSI Creations’s conspiracy against us traditional Brāhmañ Creations.”
Dashrath Bhārgav knew very well who was to be exiled actually.
Durgesh was almost in every household of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations.
Entire infinite Brahm Ayodhyā Creations were not out of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations.
If Kaikéyī Mukherjī really wanted to exile Durgesh from Chaturvédī Brahm Ayodhyā Creations, it served no purpose at all.
Durgesh was still there in almost every household.
So what was actually Kaikéyī Mukherjī after?
Did she really believe in what she claimed?
She really believed Rām Chaturvédī hadn’t attained any Svarūpé Avasthānam?
There wasn’t any Svarūpé Avasthānam at all?
It was only some ingenious political strategy of the Vedic Monotheist Hindus and the ever shrewdest Bachhalyās?
But even Pātanjal Yogdarshanam talks of Svarūpé Avasthānam.
Dashrath Bhārgav married his daughter Sītā Bhārgav with Rām Chaturvédī.
If Rām Chaturvédī is really kidnapped, is his daughter now wife of Durgesh, instead of Rām Chaturvédī?
Dashrath Bhārgav knows very well he hasn’t kidnapped Rām Chaturvédī.
How the hell can he?
Kaushalyā Bhārgav was stunned.
“What? Kaikéyī Mukherjī has asked for your exile from Dashrath Bhārgav, for fourteen years? But how can she?”
“I damn care, Mātr’shrī.” I said in my Rām Chaturvédī body, “I am going.”
“Rām, it’s not Trétā Yug now. Neither you are Lord Rām.”
Sītā Mithiléshvarī Rāvañi entered there smiling,
“He was himself Lord Rām, mātéshvarī,”
“Sītā Mithiléshvarī Rāvañi,” Kaushalyā Bhārgav said somewhat exasperated, “It was only a political strategy our Jan Pravād Vibhāg, our rumors section spread everywhere prudently to take advantage of it and you know it. You are yourself not born in any non-political family.”
Sītā Mithiléshvarī Rāvañi Bhārgav smiled ironically,
“Svarñ Lankéshvar Brahm Samrāŧ Rāvañ Paulastý Bhārgav? He had abandoned me, mātéshvarī.”
“Forget it, Putrī, daughter in law,” Kaushalyā Bhārgav said, “Brother Svarñ Lankéshvar Brahm Samrāŧ Rāvañ Paulastý Bhārgav has declared now that it was only his political strategy then, to get rid of some political problems he was facing then.”
“Mātéshvarī,” Sītā Mithiléshvarī Rāvañi Bhārgav smiled ironically, “I have come here to take you with us.”
Kaushalyā Bhārgav was surprised immensely,
“Wherever Durgesh is going in his Rām Chaturvédī body.”
“Sītā, I can’t leave Chaturvédī Brahm Ayodhyā, and you know it.”
“No, I don’t know,” Sītā Mithiléshvarī Rāvañi Bhārgav said doggedly, stubbornly, “will you please tell me kindly, mother, why the hell can’t you leave this bloody wretched Chaturvédī Brahm Ayodhyā? What the hell is here for you? You are not even first lady here.”
I looked at Sītā Mithiléshvarī Rāvañi Bhārgav.
In her original physical body we were in Chaturang Shāshvat Maithunyog.
It was her projected etheric body.*
Laxmañ Chaturvédī was doggedly against it,
“No, Bhaiyā, we won’t leave. We have to destroy, to amend this bloody wretched time cycle.”
“I never told you to leave your fatherland, Laxmañ,” I smiled.
“You know me better, Brother, Bhrātr’shrī. I was never a nationalist, confined to my nation only. Of course, I love my nation, even more than the so called nationalists do. Who the damnfool says Vibhīshañ didn’t love Lankā? It’s only the ever unjust anti-Hindu anti-human interpretation of our ever human Hindu history.”
“The ever anti human nationalists that always want to spread their legs out of their own confined nation, and want to attack other nations inhumanly, use this disguise to fulfill their own dirty wretched vested selfish interests.”
“I’m proud of you, Laxmañ.” I was overwhelmed, “Now, I believe your own Svarūpé Avasthānam has itself occurred, almost completely.”
“Well,” my younger brother in my Rām Chaturvédī body, Laxmañ Chaturvédī, hesitated somewhat, “I don’t think so, brother. I think the process is still continued.”
“You don’t think you are Laxmañ originally, even now?”
“No, brother. I think I’m Prakāsh instead, originally.”
“I see,” Urmilā Mithiléshvarī Bhārgav looked at her Chaturvédī Brāhmañ husband, Laxmañ Chaturvédī, then she looked at me, “Bhaiyā, Brother, my theory is correct.”
“What?” Laxmañ Chaturvédī almost jumped, “I’m becoming Sarvochch Brahmarshi, Om Prakāsh? Brother, Bharat Chaturvédī is becoming Financial Administrator of HVSI Creations, Ved Prakāsh?”*
Mantharā Bhārgav was shrewd enough that she managed Urmilā Mithiléshvarī Bhārgav not only to romance with me, but even make love to me, when she was not married to Laxmañ Chaturvédī.
It was in my original Durgesh body.
I never knew then that I was Rām Chaturvédī too, originally, Laxmañ Chaturvédī was Prakāsh originally and Bharat Chaturvédī was Ved Prakāsh originally.
I didn’t only love Urmilā Mithiléshvarī Bhārgav but we even made love with each other.
Urmilā Mithiléshvarī Bhārgav, naturally revolted when her father, Kushdhvaj Bhārgav, informed her to marry with Laxmañ Chaturvédī.
“What the hell, Dad, Pitr’shrī, how can I? You know I love Durgesh, he is my boyfriend. Yet you…”
“Well, I told President Dashrath Chaturvédī,” President Kushdhvaj Bhārgav, Sankāshý Bhārgav Creations smiled, “He is thorough gentleman. Neither President Dashrath Chaturvédī, nor his ever righteous son, Laxmañ Chaturvédī, has any objection. They understand it’s normal nowadays that…”
“Well, I have objection and it’s not normal for me.” Urmilā Mithiléshvarī Bhārgav interrupted her father, furiously.
President Kushdhvaj Bhārgav, Sankāshý Bhārgav Creations, smiled patiently.
He knew it was not an easy task.
Sītā Mithiléshvarī Rāvañi decided too late.
She wasn’t as modern as to have any boyfriend, but his daughters, Māndavī Mithiléshvarī Bhārgav, Urmilā Mithiléshvarī Bhārgav and Shrutkīrti Mithiléshvarī Bhārgav never lived in Trétā Yug, as Sītā Mithiléshvarī Rāvañi Bhārgav did.
She imitated almost everything Brahm Jagdambā Sītā Rāvañi Paulastý did.
Māndavī Mithiléshvarī Bhārgav, Urmilā Mithiléshvarī Bhārgav, and Shrutkīrti Mithiléshvarī Bhārgav, all the three were my own girlfriends in my original Durgesh body and we had sex also.
All the four of us.*
Not only Prime Minister, Sumant Chaturvédī, but even Sītā Mithiléshvarī Rāvañi Bhārgav and Laxmañ Chaturvédī marveled at the inside of the unique spaceship especially designed for me only.
There were similar spaceships that were especially designed for, Prakāsh, Ved Prakāsh, Udaý and Shlésh.
The ships were named ‘Sarvochch Brahmarshi’, ‘Arth Prashāsak’, ‘Brahmarshi 3’ and ‘Brahmarshi 4’.
Only the man, the ship was especially designed for, could pilot it, none else.
The Spaceship was not new however to anyone of us.
Even Prime Minister, Sumant Chaturvédī, had traveled in it with me and his numerous Chaturvédī Brāhmañ Brahm Jagdambā daughters.
However, these Spaceships needed seven ashvinātam pairs too, one ashvinātar pair and at least two normal ashvinā pairs more.
These ten pairs supplied these Spaceships the required Bio Electricity duly converted into EV diamagnetic force.
The utilization of space was ingenious.
Padminī Bhārgav had asked.
“Can’t even HVSI design such a Spaceship without any necessity of ashvinātam pairs?”
I had laughed,
“Ask or suggest it to Prakāsh. I never interfere with production in any manner whatsoever. The communists did it irrevocably erroneously and lost their administrative powers within 72 years only. I never want to repeat what the damnfools did.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
The Cabinet Room
She felt that the meeting in the Cabinet Room should concentrate on Ved Nagar and my Svarūpé Avasthānam only.
On what Evelyn Carter should give to me and expect to receive in return.
Yes, she isn’t certain I’ve attained my Svarūpé Avasthānam.
Neither she is certain there is any stage in human evolution that’s called Svarūpé Avasthānam, Self Synchronization, at all.
There’s only one human society, Hinduism that claims, there exists such a stage in human evolution.
HVSI explains its every meteoric miraculous incredible rise using this extremely incredulous theory.
Evelyn Carter doesn’t believe it’s true.
Well, Lily Turner herself doesn’t believe it.
“You know I can’t.” Lily Turner said almost incensed due to her helplessness.
With this concentration on the immediate subject of concern, there was no need to be burdened by the secretary of agriculture, the secretary of commerce, the secretary of transportation, the attorney general, and other members of President’s staff.
Entering the Cabinet Room, Lily Turner could see at a glance that the necessary officers had been alerted.
They were already on hand.
Lily Turner greeted Dr. Åārifah Mustafā, Secretary to Secretary of State, Cyrus Vance, Dr. Shāhidah Ashraf, the recommended Chief of Staff of White House, the secretary of defense and the three officers of the National Security Council.
Then she took the leather chair next to Evelyn Carter’s vacant one.
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās watched me gravely.
“I asked was there any ice to break?” I repeated my question.
“It depends on how you look at it.”
“You went to the table to get acquainted with Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad?”
“If the court please,” Waħīd Murād, the Public Prosecutor, said, “I must insist that the counsel is renowned, infamous rather I must say, to be biased in favor of Musalmān Beauties whosoever she may be. Yet he is surprisingly manifestly unfair to this witness. He is browbeating this witness constantly and trying to put her in a false light before the jury. I want to remind the court, as well as to the defense counsel this woman is a widow. She has been bereaved by the crime of murder committed by―”
“Just a minute, your honor,” I interrupted, smiling, “Mr. Public Prosecutor is arguing the case. There isn’t any question before the court for the Public Prosecutor to argue the case at this time.”
Waħīd Murād was quite angry.
“Nevertheless,” he shouted as if, “I object to having this woman held up in front of this jury as a strumpet, a harlot, a prostitute.”
I smiled patronizing, yet sophisticated.
“And I object, your honor, to having Mrs. Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās held up as a mealymouthed, deceptive, persecuted, bereaved widow simply so the prosecutor can play on the sympathies of the jury. It isn’t a theater; neither are we staging a theatrical drama here. It’s a temple of justice and we are fighting here for the life of humankind. One person already has been murdered and we are fighting here to save the life of another.”
Judge Keyser frowned.
“At present there isn’t any question before the court. Therefore, there isn’t any reason whatsoever to make an objection. The jurors are called upon to see the witnesses, to watch their demeanor, their behavior, their conduct on the stand, to form their own opinions as to thefacts.
The prosecutor has one theory of the case and the defense has another. Please try to avoid personalities, gentlemen. You may proceed, Mr. Durgesh.”
By this time, all vestiges, all hints of the fragile, delicate, helpless, bereaved widow had left the witness Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās.
However, her guts were appreciable.
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās was still sitting on the witness chair, slightly forward, still sad, and feigning a widow being intimidated unreasonably.
“Now then,” I attacked her once again, “you saw this letter in your husband’s pocket?”
“It wasn’t a letter, your honor,” she looked at Judge Keyser, “everyone can understand that it was a blackmail demand.”
“Blackmail demand on Nadīm Iqbāl Muħammad?” I asked.
“The letter was sent to him.”
“Isn’t it a fact that your third husband, Akram Sultan, had also received a blackmail demand?” I thundered at her.
“I can’t help it.”
“Isn’t it a fact that your second husband, Muħammad Qāsim Ayyūbī, had also received a blackmail demand?” I smiled at her meaningfully.
“I can’t help it.” Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās repeated her answer.
“Isn’t it a fact that your first husband, Zāhid Rashīd, had also received a blackmail demand?” I smiled at her once again.
“I can’t help it.” She again repeated.
“All the four envelopes had the return address in the upper left hand corner and the name A. M. Åbbās?”
“How do you know it was blackmail?”
“There was a demand for money in the letter. What do you think; it was an invitation to dance?”
“I can’t answer that question. I’d rather leave it to the jury to draw their own conclusion.”
Åāliyah Muħammad Åbbās watched me gravely.
“That’s your privilege.”
“What’s your full name?”
“Will you please abbreviate it?”
“A. M. Åbbās.” She said curtly, “I understand your implication. But I never blackmailed anyone in my life. Neither have I sent any blackmail letter to anyone. Anyone can use my name as a return address to implicate me.”
“Is there a newsstand at the corner by your residence?”
“Yes, there is.”
“Are you familiar with the person who runs it?”*
Lily Turner repeated her question.
“I asked how did your pre-briefing go with Evelyn Carter?”
“It means lousy, useless, worthless, crummy, horrible. Our potential candidate for next President of USA, Ms. Evelyn Carter, didn’t give a damn about Ved Nagar, Svarūpé Avasthānam and Durgesh himself. She only wanted to speak of sex championship contest in Washington D.C. between
“Then our work’s cut out for us.”
“You are forgetting the resources CIA has. Fortunately or unfortunately, I’m somewhat in a position to use those entire resources for the benefits of USA. Even the President of USA himself has given us the permission, let alone the Director of CIA. I never believe anyone of my Musalmān women friends too, as the President of USA has instructed us, rather has imposed the condition on us, without investigating about them thoroughly.”
“I agree with Lily Turner.” Dr. Åārifah Mustafā, Secretary to Secretary of State, Cyrus Vance, said severely, “That’s why I cancelled everyone else. Ved Nagar is the dream city of Vedic Monotheist Hindus. Durgesh has succeeded in their dreams getting true. He is a Parahuman and Ved Nagar is full of Posthumans.”
“Nonsense.” Evelyn Carter said.
“You must be crazy, Lily.” Evelyn Carter said tersely, “I know Durgesh more than you. He and his adroit followers Vedic Monotheist Hindus are number one liars, number one rumor spreaders. They believe that spreading rumors is Dharm Yuddh, the holy war, a Crusade.”*
Lily Turner smiled.
“I wanted to concentrate on what’s waiting for you at lunch.”
Evelyn Carter controlled herself.
Now she appeared suddenly surprisingly to be in good humor.
She brushed back her hair, grinned at the assemblage, and watched all of them impishly deliberately.
Lily Turner realized her strategy.
She reminded Evelyn Carter gravely.
“We have been discussing your lunch with Durgesh.”
“Is it going to be a long lunch?” Evelyn Carter asked delinquently.
“It doesn’t have to be.” Dr. Åārifah Mustafā, Secretary to Secretary of State, Cyrus Vance, assured her, “After some filling gap talk with the ever richest person in the entire history of humankind, you can wind up lunch and we’ll move into the Yellow Oval Room. The President would be busy elsewhere with Valéry Giscard d’Estaing, the President of France. He has instructed us already to be there in Yellow Oval Room.”
“That can be strictly business?”
“That can be strictly business.” Dr. Åārifah Mustafā said.
“I just wanted to know because I didn’t want to miss the big contest.” Evelyn Carter explained.
“You’ll have plenty of time for that,” Lily Turner promised, “This lunch and meeting with the former head of Hindu Vishv Underground is scheduled to last one and a half hours. Then Miss USA, Margaret Kennedy, is scheduled to accompany Durgesh to the opening of the Ashvinatam Museum expecting Durgesh to say a few words, maybe five minutes’ worth, about an important fund raiser. That’ll give you plenty of time to get back for the contest.”
Evelyn Carter surveyed the Cabinet Room.
“I see a lot of our friends are missing. You’ve brought in only the big brass.”
“Deliberate,” said Lily Turner simply, “Since you are going to be bargaining with the ever sexiest Vedic Monotheist Hindu, we wanted our full concentration to be devoted to a treaty with Ved Nagar/Trantor.”*
“Fair enough.” She said.
“The fact you have to remember is not that Durgesh is the Mayor of Ved Nagar/Trantor now. He was the democratic head of Hindu Vishv Underground too. Hindu Vishv Underground was an underground organization of revolutionaries who were actually behind the independence of India.”
“That doesn’t exist now?” Evelyn Carter smiled sarcastically.
“CIA suspects that it does exist now as Ved Nagar/Trantor instead of its said dissolution into Vyom, interspace.” Lily Turner said curtly. “Our former station head at Ved Nagar/Trantor, Della Turner, and our present station head, Akhilésh M. Āgnéý there, both have reported the importance of Ved Nagar/Trantor. We suspect it isn’t only a city in India. It’s actually Hindu Vishv Underground in its new present supreme developed form.”
Evelyn Carter smiled.
“Any evidence that our suspicion may be true?”
“That’s what you have to find out.” Lily Turner said.
She was twenty-one.
“The fact,” Lily Turner said, “that your younger sister, Rukħsānah Carter, is also in the same university as Kħadījah Muħammad was in, will give you something in common to talk about before you settle down to the nitty-gritty. Durgesh loves Kħadījah Muħammad even more than his duly married wife, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD.”
Now, Evelyn Carter too nodded.
“Alright, what’s the nitty-gritty?”
She tore it loose and came around the table to Evelyn Carter.
“Nellie Adams, take my seat and give me yours. This will make it easier for me to explain a map of Indian sub continent and beyond that I’ve been drawing.”
The exchange was made.
“That’s the reason I called you in today. You are the one closest to Salīm Jalāluddīn Muħammad. I have naturally to discuss the problem with you.” Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā cleared her throat and looked into Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg’s beautiful Iranian Shiå Musalmān eys, “I saw Salīm Jalāluddīn Muħammad late yesterday. I outlined one final time what had to be done. He approved, approved of the surgery. This morning, first thing, he telephoned me. He has changed his mind. He is turning down the operation.”
“He is what? Salīm won’t go through it? I didn’t talk to him this morning. He was still asleep. I haven’t heard about it naturally. It makes no sense. Are you sure, Doctor? We had agreed surgery was his only chance.”
“Apparently, Salīm now doesn’t think so. He now thinks there’s a better course. Have you seen this morning’s paper?”
Nūrjahān surveyed the front page.
She was more bewildered than ever.
“There’s just some headline about Madīnah Munawwarah.”
Turn to page three. Read the full story.”
Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg opened the paper.
The headline hit her.
The story that followed was bylined by great Bābarah Åālamgīr.
It was datelined Paris.
Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg calmly, patiently, read the news story.
When she was through, she folded the paper patiently, neatly, and put it on the desk.
She met the beautiful eyes of Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā.
Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg was aghast, stunned, as the full import of what was happening struck her.
“Yes, that’s the news.” Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā said.
“News? Hell. The hallucination of some crazy uneducated/under educated Musalmīn. It might be some deliberate political strategy of Pseudo Musalmīn too to compensate the anti Musalmīn anti Islam trend, propelled by Dr. Ali Sina and his co authors. Are you telling me Salīm Jalāluddīn Muħammad has read it and believes in this nonsense?”
“Yes.” Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā admitted.
Evelyn Carter watched it.
“A crude drawing of the Indian Sub Continent. It highlights our major Eīshān Vaigyānic bases that help us contain any overenthusiasm that may occur in India, Pakistan, Shri Lanka, nd Afghanistan.” Using her pen as a pointer on the map, Dr. Åārifah Mustafā resumed, “As you can see, our potential Presidential candidate for the next term, this Eīshān Vaigyānic base of ours there in Pakistan has three major wings: Sunnī, Shiå and Aħmadī. Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā is the Commander of our Sunnī Eīshān Vaigyānic base. It is unfortunate that Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā doesn’t have even the citizenship of Pakistan. She is still a Turk Musalmān Beauty. Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg is the Commander of our Shiå Eīshān Vaigyānic base. What a tragedy it is that as Dr. Āsiyah Mustafā, Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg too isn’t a Pakistani citizen. Nūrjahān Ghayās Beg is still a proud Iranian. We have only an Aħmadī Musalmān Beauty as our Aħmadī Eīshān Vaigyānic base at Pakistan that’s a citizen of Pakistan.”
Evelyn Carter smiled.
“How the hell you think Durgesh can help us in improving it?”
“He can permit us to have similar three Eīshān Vaigyānic bases in Ved Nagar: Sunnī Eīshān Vaigyānic base, Shiå Eīshān Vaigyānic base and Aħmadī Eīshān Vaigyānic base. He is the Mayor of the dream city Ved Nagar.”
“Do you really believe in Eīshān Vigyān?”
“Allah,” Dr. Åārifah Mustafā looked at her entirely disgruntled. “Don’t tell us you don’t deserve the post we are preparing you for.”
“Shame on you, Evelyn Carter,” Lily Turner said curtly, “you are more interested in the sex championship contest between Musalmān Beauties and Christian Beauties, than you are interested in your preparation for what we want you to be.”
“Go to hell your Nafīsah Salmān and you both. I say Nafīsah Salmān has succeeded in getting Durgesh. Her ambition has been attained. She is living now in your so-called dream city, Ved Nagar/Trantor. If it’s really a dream city as you claim it to be, why the hell Nafīsah Salmān would risk her golden fortune by helping us, instead of working for HVSI? Durgesh is her Live in Relationship Partner now. Nafīsah Salmān isn’t a fool to risk the golden opportunity of her life. No one would. Even I wouldn’t if I were in her shoes.”
“So this is the reason you are not interested in the strategies we are suggesting?” Lily Turner was furious now.
“Well, why should I?”
Evelyn Carter stared at the map.
“An area, a large area you’ve colored in green and saffron, and two small ones.”
“And you want one there?”
“Don’t you?” now it was Nellie Adams, the secretary to the secretary of defense.
Moreover, Nellie Adams was furious.
“Nellie Adams, the secretary to the secretary of defense,” Evelyn Carter laughed sarcastically, “Don’t pretend to be righteous enough to be more interested in anything else instead in sex with Durgesh. Didn’t you yourself rape Durgesh because he wasn’t leaving Dr. Åārifah Mustafā?”
“I raped him because he was deliberately ignoring me.” Nellie Adams shouted, “It doesn’t mean I’m as disinterested in my country and in Christianity as the hell you are. I am ashamed of you, Evelyn Carter.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
A Fantasy Or
Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ smiled at me.
“Well well well, my old patient has called me once more as a doctor.”
“Not for me, Sālī. Tell me something about sleepwalking if you know.”
“If I know? What do you mean? I am a doctor.”
“Who is sleepwalking?”
“No one. One of my friends pretended that he sleepwalks.”
“And you want your friend not to be caught?”
“More. You have to accompany me to his house.”
“No problem. But what have I to do there?”
“Nothing, till I don’t tell you to do anything.”
Dr. Jalāluddīn Ibrāhīm Sheikħ smiled.
“Am I really needed there?”
“Well, you are an ardent Panjvaqtah Namāzī Wahābī Musalmān. Yet you are one of the chief architects of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. Shankar Mahāpralayankar wants to meet you.” his extremely beautiful Lebanese Årab Musalmān wife, Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ, smiled at him.
“He wants to talk you about your new purchase of the abandoned island.”
“Not for repurchasing it from me, I hope. I’m only the dummy purchaser.”
“Jalāl!”Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ interrupted.
“The real purchasers are Islamic Countries, Farīdah. Why don’t you believe me?”
“You earned that money.”
“Yes, Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was your partner. But—”
“It all was planned by Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan herself. She asked me only to help her.”
Dr. Jalāluddīn Ibrāhīm Sheikħ was suddenly serious.
“Yes, I know.” Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ looked at me, then at his Saůūdī Årab Musalmān Husband, “You never touched me even after we married. You helped me to get Durgesh for my extramarital affair with him. And you yourself suggested and insisted that you want to clean my sexual organs after I have sex with Durgesh, with your tongue.”
Dr. Jalāluddīn Ibrāhīm Sheikħ watched his wife gravely.
“I’m not alone, Farīdah.”
“Yes. You told me that. But—”
“But you never believed me.”
“You think it quite impossible what I say. Don’t you?”
“They are cuckolds, I say.”
“All of them?”
“All of them. If not, at least most of them.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they are the real architects of Hindu Lund Muslim Choot International Club. They are the real purchasers of that abandoned island. I’m only their representative, their agent.”
“I—”Dr. Farīdah Jalāl Sheikħ was dumbfounded for a moment, “I can’t even try to believe you, Jalāl!”
Muħammad Åbdullah’s chest rose and sank.
For a second or two, Muħammad Åbdullah was the only person breathing.
His lips parted to eat or drink, occasionally to talk, but never to smile.
Muħammad Åbdullah was angry.
It was, however, as usual.
The royal Sheikħs present there, believed that Muħammad Åbdullah even slept in hostility.
But, would Muħammad Åbdullah now curse, threaten, throw things, or simply boil under the surface?
The man was simply dangerous outright.
They were even watching and enjoying it very much in those videos.
What would he do?
They never knew with Muħammad Åbdullah.
The man is even shrewd enough to have Durgesh on his side.
Muħammad Åbdullah stopped at the edge of the royal table between two old royal Sheikħs.
They were the senior partners.
They were the members of the group of the multinational companies.
They were not Saůūdī Årab both.
One of them was Saůūdī Årab and represented Al Saåūd royal family.
The second represented Iraq.
Well, Muħammad Åbdullah was actually also one of them.
So, he had every right to growl and bark in their hallways for a month now.
Being even elders and seniors to Muħammad Åbdullah, neither of them dared not to look at him.
“What number?” Muħammad Åbdullah asked of Al Abu Bakr.
“Fifty nine.” Al Abu Bakr answered quickly, anxious to please Muħammad Åbdullah.
“Go back to fifty five.”Muħammad Åbdullah demanded.
Al Abu Bakr flicked rapidly until the face of Dr. Jalāluddīn Ibrāhīm Sheikħ was once again on the wall.
Paperwork ruffled around the table.
“What do you know?”Muħammad Åbdullah asked.
“The same.” Al Abu Bakr tried to meet Muħammad Åbdullah’s eyes.
But under the pressure of Muħammad Åbdullah’s very eyes, Al Abu Bakr was almost immediately looking away.
The beast had the videos of not only his wives but also of his entire houseladies.
And Al Abu Bakr was licking their sexual organs after I had sex with them.
Even Al Abu Bakr’s daughters and daughters in law were in them.
The beast has him completely in his control.
Why could he not control himself?
He failed to be one of the muttaqīn.
In Al Qur’an Al Kareem, 9th Sūrat, Sūrat At-Tawbah, Āyat-e-Karīmah 4, Allah Subħān wa Tålā has stated:
‘Indeed, Allah loves the persons who control themselves.’
Well, he, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, could not control himself.
He is lånat ålayhi.
Allah wouldn’t love him.
He has expressly declared:
‘Indeed, Allah loves the persons who control themselves.’
—Al Qur’ān Al Karīm: 9 At-Tawbah: 4
‘Guide us to the immortal path.
The path of those You have bestowed favor upon, not of those who have evoked anger or of those who are astray.’
Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr is maghazūbi ålayhi.
He has evoked the anger of Allah Rabbil åālmīn.
Now he is one of ‘azzvallīn’ ‘astrays’.
He can’t win Muħammad Åbdullah anymore.
Allah Raħmānirraħīm is not with him now.
He is with Muħammad Åbdullah.
Muħammad Åbdullah repeated what Al Abu Bakr said sarcastically.
“The same? That’s just great. Out of two hundred, how many of them are still mysterious?”
“All Musalmān Beauties?”
“No these are males.”
“And how many Musalmān Beauties are still mysterious? May I ask the great Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr?”
“Subħān Allah. Måshā Allah. So we still have thirty five mysterious personalities?” Muħammad Åbdullah snorted and shook his head slowly.
Everyone waited for his eruptions.
It was naturally expected from him.
It was his characteristic when he talked with Årab Sheikħs.
The everywhere aggressive Årab Sheikħs were reduced to almost always defensive rats in front of Muħammad Åbdullah.
They could not even kill him.
More horniest than even the horniest Hindus.
It was to their greatest relief that, Muħammad Åbdullah, instead, stroked his gray beard, played with it thoughtfully, looked at Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr and allowed the severity of the moment filter in.
Then he did not say.
“You’ll work whole night. Your daily routine must be met with within four hours, including your sleep. Haven’t all of your idiosyncrasies already slept too much?”
All the Årab Sheikħs were furious and wanted Muħammad Åbdullah to show his place.
But they knew it would be as disastrous to them as were never before.
With obvious efforts, the Årab Sheikħs controlled themselves and nodded.
“I want all of your idiosyncrasies here at 10.00 AM sharp again.”Muħammad Åbdullah said with cold finality, and marched out of the room.
The door slammed.
The air lightened considerably.
Then, in unison, all the “powerful”, all the “mighty” Årab Sheikħs, with their present efficient leader Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, glanced at their watches.
“Allah. The devil himself.” Al Abu Bakr gritted his teeth, “Now I understand how Ħazrat Siddīq-e-Åāzamrzu should had felt when he found Ħuzūrs were no more there with himrzu.”
They had just been ordered to spend almost all the next two days, two nights and five hours more here.
And all this time, they had to look at the enlarged photos of faces they are tired of watching, memorizing names and birthdates, and vital stats even, of two hundred people.
And there wasn’t any doubt anywhere in the room that they all would do exactly what they had been told to do.
Not even the slightest.
Muħammad Åbdullah was dangerous beyond their capacity.
Even though Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr was now 19, Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr remembered, when Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr was younger, I would take her and her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, to the circus.
Her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, said that Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr could only have one treat.
Once her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, went to the bathroom, Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr pulled the “pleeeeze Durgesh” routine and I always gave in.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr guessed I felt because I was not her real daddy but her step-daddy that I had to do more to get her to love me.
That wasn’t so.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr loved me more than anything.
I was the one who raised Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr when her real Abbū, Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr, would have nothing to do with Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr.
It was really his loss.
Her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, met and started her live in relationship with me.
I loved Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr and that was all Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr needed.
Even though I was her step-daddy, Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr never introduced me as that.
When her friends would come over, Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr would say “meet my dad” because to Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr that was exactly what I was.
I loved Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr and she knew that if Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr pouted just right, I was putty in her hands.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr thought that she had become closer to me than was her own Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, to her.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr never thought that her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, was a bad Ammī.
She loved Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr and worked to give her anything and everything Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr wanted.
There was nothing Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr can even mention wanting that she didn’t go get an extra job to get for her.
Saying that, the only thing that bothered Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr was the way she treated me.
She was much younger than me and used that to tease me.
She loved to be wanted.
She paid special attention to other women in front of me, letting me know how “wanted” she was.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr knew she would never do anything with them.
She wouldn’t because she was a prude.
It made Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr so angry to hear me demanding her for sex night after night.
Although I was older, my libido was apparently out of control.
Her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, was like me with the fact that she can’t whimper.
Everything she said to me in our bedroom came across loud and clear in her bedroom.
The more Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr listened, the more she felt bad for me.
The more Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr listened, the more Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr wanted me.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr wanted to make things better for me the way I had always done for her.
I was quite the man.
I ran every day and kept myself in excellent shape.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr had even noticed her friends checking me out.
Once again, Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr lay here attempting to get some sleep, but Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr was unable to, because Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr was listening to her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, and me.
Her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, was being her typical self and refusing to give me any sex.
“Sex is not immaterial with the further evolution of a person, Zaynab bint Åāmir.”I also smiled at her, “It’s not true that sex is an animal need.”
“That’s what you say.”
“Please Durgesh. I accept once I was even sexier than you. I wanted sex from you even more than you wanted from me. I left Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr because he could not, and did not, want to provide enough sex to me that I needed.”
“No. Don’t get me wrong. Sheikħ Al Abu Bakr has his other shortcomings too.”
“Yes?”I smiled at Zaynab bint Åāmir patiently.
“Doesn’t your wife, Saiyadah Fātimah PhD, love you?”
“I never said she doesn’t. On the quite contrary, her love to me is absolutely exclusive.”
“And you are even proud of that?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“And still you fuck almost infinite of us Musalmān Beauties as savagely as no other man can even dream?”
“Because I need it. And NOT infinite of you Musalmān Beauties. It’s impossible.”
“Impossible? Why? Don’t you claim your infinite etheric bodies are being projected now?”
“What?”Zaynab bint Åāmir smiled at me sarcastically, “You never claim that your infinite etheric bodies are being projected now?”
“Never. I only doubt that such is the case.”I smiled at Zaynab bint Åāmir patiently.
Zaynab bint Åāmir was still nude.
She was still lying on her back.
I was still atop Zaynab bint Åāmir between her legs.
I was still fucking Zaynab bint Åāmir to my heart’s content savagely.
Zaynab bint Åāmir forgot she was now protesting it.
Zaynab bint Åāmir was behaving with me now somewhat patronizingly.
“You mean you doubt that now, when you are still fucking me, you are fucking almost infinite of us Musalmān Beauties too?”
“Yes, it’s my doubt. It’s not my claim.”
“Yes. You are right. That’s a strong possibility.”
“You fantasize you are an imaginary Param Purush, the Absolute Man that lives not on oxygen, on nonstop, ever unbroken, sexual intercourses, with entire Musalmān Beauties in the infinite creations that ever existed, now exist and will exist ever in infinite future. Don’t you?”
“Yes. But I never fantasize it. I know it.”
“Yes. To you.”
“To me. And to everyone else too who is sane and want to remain sane.”
“I never asked anyone to believe it.”
“But you yourself do believe it. Don’t you?”
“I don’t only believe it. I know it.”
Zaynab bint Åāmir laughed.
“Either you are an ever incurable liar, or you’ve self hypnotized yourself to the incredulous extent.”
“Even if it is so, what is harmful in it to anyone? Can you tell me?” I smiled at Zaynab bint Åāmir still patiently immensely.
“That’s the beauty of this fantasy. It isn’t harmful to anyone.”
“It’s harmful to yourself.”
“You may think it’s true.”
“May? I may? I know it’s true.”
“What an infinite dirty and ever nasty mind you have, Durgesh.”
“Have I harmed anyone ever with it?”
“No. Never. I do agree. But it is harmful to yourself, you don’t know.”
“How, my darling?”
It broke Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr’s heart to hear me arguing with her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, like that.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr heard her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, finally got up.
And she went to the living room to sleep on the couch, to avoid anymore sex with me.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr had had enough.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr refused to let her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, treat me like this anymore.
When Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr heard her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, settle on to the couch and turn the TV on, Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr decided that now it was her time.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr quietly sneaked into our bedroom and touched me.
“Durgesh, I had a nightmare” Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr whimpered to me.
“Your Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, is in the living room” I whimpered quietly, turning to try and focus on Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr.
“Can I sleep in your bed, with you, Durgesh?” Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr leaned closer to me, letting her nightgown covered breasts to run across my arms.
I patted the bed beside me.
That was only what Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr needed.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr quickly climbed in.
As we lay in the bed, Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr couldn’t help but think of the conversation between me and her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, earlier.
Me demanding her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, for more sex.
Her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, refusing me, just like she did, as often as she could.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr snuggled up to me as close as Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr could get.
Since Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr always had been and was now a college cheerleader, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saůūdī Årab extremely beautiful Wahābī Musalmān body was in excellent shape.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr knew it was much better than even her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir’s.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr kissed me on the cheek and told me how much she appreciated me being her knight in shining armor.
Although it was dark, Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr could feel me smile as I said,
“That was my job, baby.”
As we drifted off to sleep, I felt Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr’s hands begin to roam my Hindu male body.
She wanted to give me the attention of a woman, I needed then very much.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr knew I was hyper sexual.
Even her own beautiful girlfriends had taken benefit of it and had themselves fucked me very much.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr had smiled.
“Hey, you enjoy my Hindu dad?”
“Very much. He is the ever best.”
I wanted a woman to make me feel complete always.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr just assumed that since we had been living in live in relationship now for 17 years, we had grown apart.
It was not true.
But it was what Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr thought and believed to be true.
I still wanted her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, more.
But her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, wanted now exactly nothing from me, but only the security of our Live in relationship.
She was more interested now in Islam than in sex.
She said it was the way it was in her family.
Sex was a chore.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr was not nearly as experienced as her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir was, but Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr knew that sex was wonderful.
Sex was not a chore.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr decided that it was time to give me what I deserved.
The female companionship I desired.
The loving relationship I craved.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr continued her sweet caresses.
I felt my Uncut Hindu Cock harden against her leg.
It was time.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr reached closer and kissed me.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr didn’t kiss me like we kissed when I dropped her off for school.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr kissed me like a young grown up adult Musalmān Beauty.
Needless to say, I was a bit stunned and said,
“Baby, we shouldn’t, I wouldn’t want you to hate me.”
But Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr again kissed me as passionately as Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr could.
Her kiss let me know that Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr could never hate me.
She kissed me fanatically for what felt like an eternity.
Moreover, Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr began to explore my body using her hands.
Well, I knew now that I couldn’t, and shouldn’t, refuse to her.
She was excited and wanted sex very much.
Even the hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr was not my half daughter anymore.
She was a fully grown up adult young Musalmān Beauty of twenty eight years.
Capable fully to take her decisions herself.
She hadn’t approached me tonight as my half daughter.
She had approached me now as an adult young woman in need of not my preaching, but my adult Hindu love instead I was legendary for.
Yes, I am sixty two.
Yes, Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr is twenty eight only.
But she had refused to admit any importance of our age difference.
What can I do now?
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr was already playing with my Uncut Hindu Cock now.
We continued kissing with a passion that had been brewing for years.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr whimpered to me,
“Durgesh, I want you to make love to me, the way you want to make love to my Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir.”
I kissed each her cheek and told her how much I would love that.
No preaching now, I told myself strictly.
No preaching now.
Yet, I really wanted to make sure Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr was really serious.
“Tell me again, baby!”
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr had been snooping around her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, and my room long enough to know that I liked it a bit rough and raw.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr was in to bondage and discipline and she had even read most of my books and stories about sex too.
Those words were all it took and I was ultimately quick to oblige.
I practically tore her nightgown off, nibbling on her Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saůūdī Årab extremely beautiful Wahābī Musalmān body as I did.
Something about my kisses to Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr caused her to orgasm, before I even entered her.
Sure, Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr had masturbated to this scene on several occasions, but to have my warm Hindu lips on her, was more than Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr could take.
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr loved the feel as I stretched her, while fucking Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr.
“Damn baby, Your Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, never let me just take control of her and if I tried, she would tell me not to rape her.”
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr pulled me close to her.
“Durgesh darling! Méré Hindu Piyā! Hindu Al Buůūlatul Muslimāt! Hum Musalmān ħasīnāon ké Hindu Kħasam! Hindu husband of us Musalmān Beauties! Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr promises to give you everything that her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir, won’t. Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr wants you to think of me each time you get in the bed with her Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir. Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr wants you to taste me when you kiss her, now fuck me hard Durgesh. My friends say you are the best. How unlucky I am not to get you inside me before. I’ve wasted ten grand years of my life. But not now even a single moment. Just fuck me as savagely as you can. I want it. I need it.”
And I fucked Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr, perhaps even more savagely than I wanted to fuck her equally beautiful Ammī, Zaynab bint Åāmir.
I fucked Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr whole night, nonstop, in various sex positions.
She was very grateful to me.
Ultimately, my grunting got louder as I approached to orgasm.
I bit on her nipple and Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr was pushed over the edge.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī young Saůūdī Årab extremely beautiful Wahābī Musalmān body convulsed with a wild orgasm as she screamed and I spewed my Hindu semen into her hungry Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
We took a moment to catch our breath as I lay on top of Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr, my Uncut Hindu Cock still filling her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saůūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt.
I kissed Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr tenderly.
“I love you baby, I am thrilled that you gave me the gift you did. I will always treasure you.”
Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr let me know that “I better” and that Åāýéshah Al Abu Bakr fully expected me to come into her room and make love to her anytime I wanted.
She told me to expect more “nightmares from her as tonight it was.”
More Creative Adult Sex in English from Durgesh
1. Bahoo Bégum
22. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–18
23. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–19
24. Årab Mahā Bhārat: 1/18: ‘Ādi Parv: Saůūdī Årabia’–20
29. A secret Smile
36. Sālī, Ammījān!
50. Hell, I revolt
70. I live with him
79. Under Open Sky
87. Sixty One Eighteen in Love-13
88. Sixty One Eighteen in Love-14
89. Sixty One Eighteen in Love-15
99. Ahl-Al Bayt 7
105. Ahl-Al Bayt 13
106. Ahl-Al Bayt 14
107. Ahl-Al Bayt 15
108. Ahl-Al Bayt 16
109. Ahl-Al Bayt 17
110. Ahl-Al Bayt 18
111.Ahl-Al Bayt 19
112. Ahl-Al Bayt 20
113. Ahl-Al Bayt 21
114. Ahl-Al Bayt 22
115. Ahl-Al Bayt 23
116. Ahl-Al Bayt 24
117. Ahl-Al Bayt 25
118. Ahl-Al Bayt 26
119. Ahl-Al Bayt 27
120. Ahl-Al Bayt 28
121. Ahl-Al Bayt 29
122. Ahl-Al Bayt 30
124. The women in my life
145. She protested
147. The threesome
149. The Chairman: 1
150. The Chairman: 2
151. The Chairman: 3
152. The Chairman: 4
153. The Chairman: 5
154. An Underworld Don: 1
155. An Underworld Don: 2
156. An Underworld Don: 3
157. An Underworld Don: 4
158. An Underworld Don: 5
159. An Underworld Don: 6
160. An Underworld Don: 7
161. An Underworld Don: 8
162. An Underworld Don: 9
163. An Underworld Don: 10
164. Age no bar: 1
165. Age no bar: 2
177. The Extent: 3
178. The Extent: 4
179. The Extent: 5
180. The Extent: 6
181. The Extent: 7
182. The Extent: 8
More creative adult sex in Hindi/Urdu from Durgesh:
13. Eidul Fitr-1
18. Main térī dīvānī
21. Majājī Kħudā: 1
22. Majājī Kħudā: 2
23. Majājī Kħudā:3
24. Majājī Kħudā:4
25. Majājī Kħudā: 5
26. Majājī Kħudā: 6
27. Pyār na dékhé ůmr:1
More Science Fictions from DSM Satyarthi:
9. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 6
10. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 7
11. R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 8
12.R’gved: Mandal 1| Sookt 19| Mantr 9
39. Saamved: Mantr 1