Hindu girls and Muslim men
 
A Hindu girl's mea culpa
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My Encounters With Muslim Men : A Hindu Girl's Recollections. Episode 2
Posted:Oct 3, 2017 9:01 am
Last Updated:Nov 8, 2019 4:36 am
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Basheer : Part 5 : The Final Frontier

Basheer's lust was unfettered in expressing itself in the lewdest of words and acts while he was mounting me. My ears would burn with shame. The undiminished focus of his attention was on my hips and buttocks. Most of the time he entered me from behind. It was also my favorite position. At the very height of his passion he would suddenly pull out fully and then swiftly thrust in again to the hilt, repeating this again and again. He had a special name for it - Khanjar Maar, the dagger thrust. It would send me wildly over in a frenzy of my own. He would often use his fingers to touch the crinkled opening of my anal orifice as he was driving his splendid organ into my vagina. Lately he had started inserting a well oiled middle finger up to the knuckles. I had been a bit embarrassed. It had all started with a light feathery touch when I was swept up to reach my orgasm. I had not objected because Murtaza too had a few times touched me there lightly. In a way it was stimulating too. I took it as just another caress. Little did I know where all this was leading to.

The brutal mid-western winter had come to an end. The Spring Break was upon us and the campus had thinned out a bit because most undergraduates had gone away to celebrate. Janet too had gone home to see her parents in Alabama. Basheer and I had stayed back. One quiet evening I sensed a kind of unusual excitement in Basheer. I was sitting on the carpet with my head resting on his thigh as he sat on the sofa watching TV. I felt him getting hard inside his jeans. I was getting turned on by the signs of his arousal. Rolling and turning my head back I kissed the bulge in his pants. We had both lost interest in the TV program. Quickly he was out of his clothes and as swiftly he disrobed me. Kneeling before him I had just sucked him a bit before he was impatient to enter me. Knowing his eagerness to mount me I turned my back to him and knelt on all fours on the carpet. He thrust himself into me in one hard deep lunge. I gasped as I felt the fullness of manhood. He felt like a bull. I was enjoying this mightily, spreading my thighs widely, arching my back and I was lifting up my buttocks to take him in more fully. His soaring desire was contagious and I felt myself coming once and then a second time. But he was relentless. Awash with desire and his semen inside me I rested my head on the carpet looking from under at his hardness pumping into me. His finger was also touching and probing the puckered orifice of my anal opening. Suddenly, as he often did, he pulled himself out of me. I lay there relaxed with my head resting on my arms expecting the sudden and repeated stabbings, which he called the khanjar maar.

The thrust came but not where I was expecting it. I felt the hot moist hard demanding head of his manhood thrusting against the crinkled tightly closed opening of my asshole. I cried out not so much in pain, but more out of a sense of outrage at this unexpected assault on this last undefiled citadel of my body. He did not desist at this sign of protest. Instead he wrapped his left hand around my struggling body, clasping me across my stomach and pulling me on to his huge shaft. As he stabbed repeatedly against the tightly closed orifice. I screamed as I now felt the searing pain of violation. I realized what his special excitement was that evening. He had been planning this all the time in his head. I could feel my sphincter yielding as he dilated me with his unhooded supara (dickhead). He was now firmly lodged in my anal opening. He stopped thrusting for just a bit. (He told me later that it was not to spare me the pain but more for his own pleasure, to savor my tightness.) I could feel his dickhead half way in my sphincter, throbbing and dilating me in that tight and narrow place.. Then he started thrusting again as he drove his dickhead into me millimeter by millimeter. As I knelt there helplessly I felt his right hand curl around my waist and going down to cup my pubic mound. The middle finger inserted itself into the folds of my womanhood reaching in to touch and tweak the bud. That's when I felt his hardness break through the sphincter to sheath itself deeper.

There was great relief as I felt the ridge of his supara passing through my sphincter. As he hunched over me, now firmly lodged inside my asshole, shafting me in long deep strokes, he was enjoying himself mightily. He was murmuring lewd comments in my ears as he pumped away ceaselessly. In the throes of an overwhelming desire he pushed me down and fell on top of me. I gasped as my breath was forced out of my lungs. His enormous shaft was plunged in deeper into the tightness of my sphincter. Pinning me down on the carpet his muscled body heavy on my back he was spearing me with ruthless gusto. As his hips smashed into my buttocks I felt his hardness surging inside me in a remorseless rhythm. The immense pleasure he was getting conveyed itself to me. I was feeling a warmth spreading over my crotch as his finger stimulated my clitoris. His magnificent hardness felt different in my asshole than in my vagina. I could feel his duct under the shaft pulsate as my sphincter held him tightly. But beyond the sphincter his thick shaft was held more lightly. He was at an unusually high pitch of excitement thrusting into me in a frenzy trying to break the grasp of my sphincter at the base of his thickness . His hips were rotating as he ground the fullness of his cock into my asshole. Then I felt him shudder and twist as he shot stream after stream of semen deep into my entrails. His finger was tweaking my bud even as he shot his cum into my bowels. I was caught in the my own quiet release as my body felt him flooding my innards with his thick semen as he held me pinned down on the carpet. We lay there on the carpet exhausted panting together. He lay on top of me for a while and then as he lifted off me, his dick was dripping cum all over my buttocks. Lying on his side he put his finger in my cum filled asshole as though to open it more to take all his semen which was welling out of me. I heard him chuckle and say, " Aaj to teri dusri seal bhi ek Mussalmaan hi ne todi. Kya jabardast maaza ayya mujhe jab tu chatpatta rahi thi." ( "Today a Muslim deflowered your other orifice too. What fun I had as you were writhing under me." ) Lying there on the carpet as I heard his triumphant remarks I had to agree that he had breached the last bastion of my bodily integrity. He had gone in where no man had gone before-the final frontier of my submission.

Read the sequel in my next post: The Final Frontier - Afterthoughts.

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My Encounters With Muslim Men : A Hindu Girl's Recollections.
Posted:Jul 23, 2018 8:23 pm
Last Updated:May 11, 2019 6:35 am
2284 Views
A Digression

Another friend told me he wanted to be my 'mureed' (disciple). It tempted me to attempt another verse !! But no more poetry. Next comes my experience with Kamaal.

Urdu

Mureed to ban na chahte ho tum
Par kaun hoon mai hidayat dene
Undar to mere hai josh hawas ki
Ashiqi ki kya zaroorat hai mujhe
Jab mizaaz hai dost aiyaashi ki
Khoj to hai oos zalim qatil ki
Jo baha de khoon meri zahen mein
Aur umeed ki lehar jaga de phir se
Meri jism ki tarasti androniyoon mein

English

No doubt you want to be my disciple
But who am I to guide you.
Inside when I am consumed by lust
What avail to me is love
When the mood is but for wantoness
I search for that cruel assasin
Who will flood my mind with blood
And send hopes surging again
Through the thirsty recesses of my body.
\8b
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My Encounters With Muslim Men : A Hindu Girl's Recollections.
Posted:Jul 17, 2018 9:35 pm
Last Updated:Nov 21, 2019 9:22 pm
2369 Views

Did reading it turn you on?
Yes. Immensely. Loved it.
Yes. Very much
Yes.
No.
No. I was offended
No. You are a bitch!!
10 Comments , 40 votes
My Encounters With Muslim Men : A Hindu Girl's Recollections.
Posted:Jul 17, 2018 9:27 pm
Last Updated:Sep 7, 2019 1:29 am
2251 Views
After a Respite

Yesterday a friend here called shameless in displaying my thoughts and body while hiding my identity. Another asked me if i was a feminist. Here is my answer in two Urdu verses I composed as I thought about it.

Urdu
1
Chehra to akhir nakaab hi to hai
Aise bhi parda hai logon ke nigahoon pe
Meri asliyat kaun dekhta hai, Aasia
Jab hawas se bhari hui hai nazarain tumhaari
Khoi hui hai duniya issi junoon mein.

English Translation

The face is but a mask
Even the eyes of people are hooded
Who sees the reality of my being?
When your gaze is full of lust
And the world is lost in this madness

2
Urdu

Besharam hoon, bewafa nahi Aasia
Jeeti hoon tumhaare hi labzoon mein
Kasoor to tumhaari hi hai
Uthate ho luft is behudgi mein.
Shak to karte ho mujh pe
Par nazar to dalo apni niyat pe.
Chehra sanam nakaab hai sahi
Nigahein tumhaari, adayein meri
Besharmi ka ilzzam na lagao mujhe pe
Hawas to tumhaari hai
Bus andaaz hi hai meri
Sher apne aap ko kehte ho behichak
Par aazmati to hoon mai taqat tumhaari
Zor to karte ho bahut tum
Par sher to nikalte hain mujh hi se.
Duniya se daar te ho tum buzdil
Izhaar to mujhe hi karni padti hai.

English Translation

Shameless I am, not unfaithful
I live but only in your words
The fault is yours alone
You take such pleasure in this lewdness
You do suspect me
But look at your own intent.
The face, my dear, is no doubt a mask
The gaze is yours, but the gestures mine
Accuse me not of shamelessness
The lust is yours
The expressions mine
You call yourself a tiger
But I experience your wildness
Compel me a lot you do
But the verses flow from me.
You fear the world you cowards
I have to speak for us all.

It is not easy for a contemplative articulate girl to keep silent as thoughts tumble out and words well out of you. Many friends here have also urged me to recount more of my encounters with Muslim men because they enjoyed it so much. So I have decided to resume telling my readers about my other experiences after Basheer. I have also decided to share with all of you the experiences confided in me by some of my friends who like me have enjoyed the embrace of Muslim men immensely. My affair with Kamaal Hussain in my next post.
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My Encounters With Muslim Men : A Hindu Girl's Recollections.
Posted:Oct 13, 2017 9:45 pm
Last Updated:Sep 12, 2019 3:20 am
4117 Views

The Final Word

As a little girl I had spent a lot of time at stud farms in Bahadurgarh and Saharanpur. While my parents relaxed with their friends in the farm house I would wander around the stud farm sometimes riding, sometimes watching horses going through their paces. I grew to love horses especially the stallions. I would see them striding or galloping in the paddocks, their magnificent maleness displayed proudly. I always felt a strange sense of elation seeing them. Glossy skin, sleek powerful bodies, balanced on high stepping delicate hoofs, the stallion for me, was a magnificent symbol of grace and sexual prowess. As I watched them in the paddocks and the mounting block I would catch the syces and stable boys slyly looking at me from the corners of their eyes as the stallions covered the mares. They seemed to be getting a lot of salacious pleasure in seeing a little girl watching the horses mating. Never bothered by it I watched the stallions mounting the mares with brimming lust and trembling impatience. They tossed their heads wildly, mane flying as they went up on their haunches thrusting into the mare. In every intimate moment of passion with my Muslim lovers, these memories would flood back and I would be lost in a haze of sensual enjoyment where man and stallion merged with each other in my mind and I knew not which was which.

I have been with other lovers. But South Asian Muslim men are different because of their courtly grace ,and seething virility, that combine to give them an air of sheathed animality. There is a passionate sensuality tightly reined in till the restraint breaks and the Muslim Man gives vent to a fathomless lust manifesting itself in myriad lewd acts of the forbidden. As a woman you feel yourself drowning in an ocean of his desire only to come out breathless till the next wave of his ceaseless lust washes over you. It happens again and again leaving your body limp and bruised but aching all over with the sweet pain of fulfillment. Until you feel a reawakening of desire for him to renew his assault on your softest places, explore without remorse the secret sensitive recesses of your body and penetrate the deepest core of your feminity, in a final act of domination. A wail of intense pleasure breaks out of you as you surrender, submit and celebrate the shameless act of pure sexual enjoyment.

Why this paean of praise at this time? That is because I intend to end this mia culpa. I have had a few Muslim lovers since Murtaza and Basheer. However I do not intend to recollect my experiences with them because of many reasons. The first because the initial experiences that awaken a girls awareness of her own sexuality are the most interesting and become a template for the future. Secondly these occurred many years ago and the more recent ones if recounted may reveal the identities of the participants because we are all in Delhi. A simple fact inadvertently mentioned in these blogs has brought me too close to being recognized by someone who moves in the same social circles. So friends I do not intend to post anymore of my recollections. Thank you all for the appreciation. Adieu or is it Au revoir?
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My Encounters With Muslim Men : A Hindu Girl's Recollections. Episode 2
Posted:Oct 10, 2017 1:04 am
Last Updated:Jun 3, 2019 9:29 pm
4030 Views
Basheer : Part 6 : The Final Frontier - After Thoughts

Basheer's magnificent hardness felt different in that tightly closed orifice. I did not know till then that he was capable of such refined cruelty in this act of defilement. He had deliriously enjoyed taking the last citadel of my virginity. He told me that it was an ecstatic experience for him because my sphincter was strangling his shaft at the base. For me the climax was a much quieter one. It was completely different the feel of this entry into my body. It was a quick painful thrust and then relief as he seemed to penetrate into the emptiness of my entrails. It did not have the delicious tactile contact along the entire length of my womanhood which enabled me to grasp him inside me and feel every inch of his magnificent shaft as I twisted and knotted to a mind blowing ecstasy. Still knowing he was enjoying it immensely made me feel a pleasure which was more in the mind, that sensed the excitement he felt, than in my body which was being invaded so mercilessly. In the aftermath I realized how true were the words of the Madame Stael, the 18th century French woman intellectual. She had remarked, " The desire of the man is for the woman, but the desire of the woman is for the desire of the man." Perceptive words that every self aware woman comes to understand and accept. That is what makes all of us women submit to the demands of our men, be they husbands or lovers. It is also why a woman likes to be pursued so that she can revel in the desire she provokes.

Now Basheer had added a new variation to our frequent repertoire of lewd acts. He told me he had enjoyed breaking in his other Hindu GFs too, before me, to this final act of domination. It was the piece de resistance for him, the final act before we rested satiated. He was careful to bring me to a number of orgasms in my womanhood before indulging himself in his favorite pastime with Hindu girls. All my orifices had now been invaded by a Muslim man's irresistible unhooded weapon. No part of me remained inviolate.

Read the sequel in my next post: A Final Word.
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My Encounters With Muslim Men : A Hindu Girl's Recollections. Episode 2
Posted:Sep 26, 2017 12:54 am
Last Updated:Dec 9, 2017 4:44 am
4989 Views
Basheer : Part 4

Our relationship was now sealed in the rhythm of our bodies. We discovered a lot of common interests. We were both very fond of playing squash. As a little girl the Marker at Delhi Gymkhana had taught me to play a subtle game of squash combining deceptive angles with unexpected drop shots pitting the artistry and strategy of my game against the brute force of the heavier boys. Very few guys could beat me. In our common love of the game we found another validation of the overwhelming bond of attraction that now existed between us. We would go to the University Sports Center almost every evening or afternoon for a few games. I was an excellent player but Basheer was simply superb. On the court , gliding like a panther effortlessly and swiftly from side to side he would catch me on the wrong foot to counter my artful drop shots. With bursts of power he would overwhelm me by sheer force. At other times he would match the subtlety of my game with a deviousness that would expose my weaknesses leaving me gasping for breath. Our game was a really a template for our blazing sexuality. After the game, sweating profusely, gripped by an excitement barely concealed we would rush back to my apartment where Basheer would tear off my clothes and pushing me against my bedroom wall and enter me from behind driving the breath out of my lungs. Straining against each other we would reach a mind blowing climax.

Basheer was a real speed buff. He drove a nifty Honda sports S2000. I was his constant companion in the 2 seater as he roared around. He would go off to the country side, park in wooded places. We would mess around. I was often squatting on the ground sucking him or bent over the bonnet as he mounted me. Janet my flat mate had recently started dating a black man. Many evenings as Basheer was with me would hear Janet moaning and crying as her black boyfriend Timothy pleasured her. The sounds of their lovemaking would set us both off and we were soon adding to the din of matings in the apartment. I am sure we were equally noisy and inspired Janet and Timothy in their couplings. Unfettered by conventions in a alien land, we lived a life exploring the limits of our sensuality. That it was really good for me was borne out by my excellent grades and the high praise I was getting from my professors.

I was now a fulfilled, happy young Hindu woman enthralled and basking in the intensity of her Muslim lover's lust. Just looking at his naked hairy body, his magnificent manhood and the huge balls held closely to his body like a stallion in full glory displaying the proud symbols of maleness, I would feel a compelling heat in my loins, an ache, a longing for the searing surge of his rampant, unhooded Muslim fullness as he plundered me in total abandon--an unrestrained lust venting itself on my more than willing body. As he plumbed the depths of my contorting body, discovering the secret nooks and crannies of my fathomless pleasure, he was also exploring the inner recesses of mind, the well springs of my sensuality, some known, some not yet acknowledged but all of them seething within my psyche. In this cauldron of passion there was nothing forbidden, nothing unexplored, there was only the unexpected.

Read the sequel in my next post: The Final Frontier.

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My Encounters With Muslim Men : A Hindu Girl's Recollections. Episode 2
Posted:Sep 24, 2017 2:12 am
Last Updated:May 13, 2019 8:48 pm
6010 Views
Basheer : Part : 3

As we lay there still intertwined I felt him stir. Then he withdrew from me and rolled over on his side. He slid off the sofa pulling me down on to the carpet. We lay there looking at each other with the curiosity and wonder of a new intimacy. I reached out to caress his hairy chest. His light brown body was a shade fairer than mine. His broad shoulders narrowed to a flat muscled stomach. A thick line of hair curled down to his crotch where his huge, dark and long manhood nestled proudly amidst luxuriant hair. His big scrotum with heavy balls were tucked in neatly and tightly under it. I could not help noticing that he had still not drooped and was semi hard. He looked down at me lying beside him and said "Kya mast ladki ho tum" ( What a hot girl you are ). I kissed his manly chest. My fingers snaked down to cup his balls warmly. He smiled as I hefted them in my palm.

My hand slipped back to feel his thick shaft. I felt it stirring in my fingers. He slipped his arm under my shoulder and cupped my right breast. His other hand was rubbing my lower belly before sliding down to caress my pubes. An impertinent finger now slipped between my nether lips and found the bud of my womanhood. Flicking it with a feather touch he aroused my desire again. His hot mouth on my left breast, biting licking only stoked my desire more. I felt the sudden surge of a 'limitless female hunger' that could only be find relief in questing hardness of his Muslim shaft. I felt him grow huge in my fingers. Now fully rampant he was impatient with my fingers stroking him. Pushing aside my hand he got up kneeling over me at my breasts. Grabbing them roughly he pushed them together to envelope his huge shaft. As he thrust between them I opened my mouth to receive the dark purple circumcised head at the top of his lunge. He was now excited to a high pitch of lust. His big shaft was now jerking uncontrollably seeking a hotter, tighter receptacle. Brooking no further delay he drew back and his hands were on my hips turning me around. I knew what he wanted. In that timed tested gesture of female submission I crouched on my hands and knees before him. Wasting no time he held my hips and parted the cheeks of my buttocks. He mounted me like a stallion covers his mare. I gasped as his thick head invaded the moist opening of my female body. I felt a scorching rock hard knob dilating me inexorably. There was an ache mixed with sweet pleasure as he penetrated me again.

I had forgotten how thick and hard he had felt earlier. His hands were gripping my hips as he plunged his steel hard shaft deeper into me. I was now riding a wave of urgency of my own, my rump grinding back seeking a merciless impalement. Basheer was unrelenting in spearing me with long deep plunges as he leaned into me and grabbed my wildly swinging breasts. I was holding his thick shaft tightly inside my moist sheath. I felt the ridge of his circumcised dickhead surging inside me. Lost in a frenzy of writhings I sensed a sudden change of pace. Basheer caught hold of my hair as it was flying around wildly and wrapping it around his hand pulled my head back. As my back arched he was now thrusting savagely in short hard digs. I was surprised when he pulled out. I felt an emptiness inside me. But before I could express my unhappiness he plunged back inside me heaving in a massive thrust. I was breathless. As I panted like a bitch in the heat he kept pulling out and then plunging into me again and again. I suddenly felt my body shudder as he stabbed me with his hardness. My orgasm overtook me as he held me tightly around my waist, his thickness held still as I was awash with pleasure.

Even as I was spending I felt Basheer resuming his thrusting. He was again shafting me with an unabated gusto. Before I knew it I was again caught in a second burst of joy. Moaning deeply in my throat I let him drive me over the edge again. Basheer held himself still hard inside my spent body. I felt a shock of delight as he started moving again. It was a frenzied rhythm now. Without remorse he was now plunging his splendid manhood ruthlessly. My womanhood was now being invaded relentlessly. Pierced again and again as I lifted my hips and raised my buttocks for a deeper impalement. I heard myself mumbling and then shout out " Yes. Yessss. Harder. Yes yes Basheer take me." My hand was reaching back to pull him closer to my buttocks. I was bucking under him like a heedless mare. He was now riding me with a fierce abandon and plundering me cruelly. . I felt him suddenly grow monstrously huge inside me. His circumcised dickhead was now throbbing and swelling. Then I felt him spasm and flood me with his semen. The dickhead was jammed against my cervix bathing it with his seed. I felt the knot of tension within me burst one last time. We clung to each other in shuddering ecstasy. We stayed like that for awhile - the epitome of a female succumbing to the dominant male. Our mutual passion spent he pulled out of me. Yielding to a sense of gratitude I turned around and licked his circumcised manhood clean with my tongue. It was salty and tangy - both our juices that had mingled inside me. It was then that I realized that his semen which had flooded me was dripping out, some of it trickling down my inner thighs.

Satiated, fulfilled and exhausted we curled up together on the carpet and slept. I had never thought anyone could be a better lover than Murtaza, but Basheer was indeed even better. His wild virility had stirred me to the very depths of my own sensuality.

Read the sequel in my next post.
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My Encounters With Muslim Men : A Hindu Girl's Recollections. Episode 2
Posted:Sep 21, 2017 7:16 pm
Last Updated:May 13, 2019 8:49 pm
5422 Views
Basheer : Part 2

His lips were hard and demanding as he pushed his tongue into my mouth. A muffled moan of pleasure escaped me as my tongue entwined with his and his hand now sought my breasts. Cupping my left breast with his right hand his left hand was under me and sliding down my spine. I just clasped him feeling his back muscles rippling under my fingers as his mouth explored the hollow of my throat. Then his hand was swiftly unbuttoning my shirt and reaching in he cupped my breast, his fingers digging in. I was caught in a vortex of lust as his hands and mouth explored my body. Suddenly he got off and pulled off my shirt and bra. His mouth was back on my bared breasts kissing, nibbling and biting as I could not resist reaching out to grasp the bulge which was now tenting his jeans. He moved off again and unzipped his pants and stepped out of them and then pulled off his lo rise underwear. I gasped seeing the magnificent Muslim manhood that reared up. He was huge long and thick and the unhooded head was flared and beautifully sculpted. I was so excited by the sight that I longed to pay homage to it with my mouth. Leaning forward I licked my lips and parted them as he moved his hip.

There I was sliding my wet lips on that deeply veined rampant shaft. He stood still letting me enclose his hardness in my hot moist mouth. I realized I was making noises in my throat as I sucked him faster. Unable to wait any longer he pulled out of my mouth and tore off my jeans and panties and pushed me on to the sofa and came over me. My body trembling with desire I welcomed him opening my thighs wide. He just fell on me driving his thick throbbing shaft head into my waiting crevice. As my hips lifted up to meet his surge I felt his left palm go under my rump and pushing me up for even deeper penetration. His mouth was now cruel and relentless in biting my breasts and worrying my nipples. His hand under me was kneading and grasping my buttocks as he speared me without remorse. After the long period of abstinence since Murtaza, I was now enjoying the unrestrained passion of this Paki who seemed intent on exploring and delving into the inner recesses of my body. I threw my legs even wider grinding my pubic bone against him as my legs scissored around his waist, my heels locking behind his hip. We were now writhing together, grinding against each other. I gripped his manhood inside me, squeezing as he shafted me in a frenzy of lust. Basheer was now pounding me to my depths with out mercy and his mouth and hands were searching and seeking all the curves, crevices and hollows of my body. I let out a cry pleasure as my own orgasm burst and swept over me in waves. I heard him yell out as he arched into me flooding me with his seed. He throbbed and I felt him spraying my innards with his hot semen scalding the walls of my sheath which spasmed on and on, milking him. We were both locked together in a blissful moment of utter ecstasy. He fell over me as we both panted after the exertions of our bodies.

He was heavy on my body still ensconced in the valley of my thighs. Basheer seemed loathe to get off me. As I lay there under him, I had a premonition that Basheer had entered me and my life not for just this brief moment.
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My Encounters With Muslim Men : A Hindu Girl' Recollections. Episode 2
Posted:Sep 21, 2017 11:15 am
Last Updated:May 13, 2019 8:50 pm
5419 Views
Episode 2 : Foreign Entanglement : Basheer Ahmad


Part : 1

Soon after Murtaza left Delhi I started my third year in college. Not finding relief for my newly awakened senses, I was out of sorts all the time. Even my mother noticed and asked me if I was ill. Unable to confess, knowing what I was missing, I sought relief in squash and riding. I also had 2 separate brief encounters with 2 Hindu boys during this period of restlessness. The fumbling gropings which ended in " lusts labor lost" was a testament to my own poor judgement and the inadequacies of these callow men. But a 21 year old's young mind is resilient and soon I was caught up in the excitement of going to study in the US. By September I was in a university town, settling in, rushing from class to class, making new friends and looking forward to the exhilarating freedom and intellectual stimulation of graduate school life at an American university in the Mid West. I was sharing an apartment with a white girl Janet, who was at the university too and became one of my best friend and remains so even today. The first 8 to 10 weeks were hectic. I had no time to think about anything.

After things had settled down a bit and I was becoming familiar with the town, I was one day at Zingerman's Deli with Janet and another girl, waiting in a queue, to order our lunch. As I was standing there chatting with my friends I felt someone behind me getting a bit too close for comfort. When I turned back, a bit annoyed, I saw a Desi guy ( a South Asian) behind me. Our eyes met and he smiled, a bit mockingly I thought, and said "Hello. New around campus?" I could not help asking a bit archly, "Does it show?" To which he replied laughing, "Yes. A great deal and more. And what I see is gorgeous." I was not annoyed anymore. Just a bit confused by the 'double entendre'. As I paused, my mind searching for a smart reply, I saw before me a tall, well built but, slim man in his late twenties, who had about him an air of lithe lazy elegance. He had a very strong face, with sharp magnetic eyes and a long hook nose which made him look predatory like an eagle. I could see his eyes going over my body taking it all in, the curves , the hollows. Unable to say anything clever in reply, I fell back on my smile, which some say is delightful. His eyes warmed and his face broke into a smile so sunny that I was bowled over , as he said "Basheer Ahmad, from Pakistan. How do you do?" I could only mumble, "Aarati from Delhi. Hello" By then we had reached the counter to order our food. So we did not get to talk any more. But that night in bed I felt hot and restless. I felt the familiar ache between my thighs as I remembered his eyes roaming all over my body as we had waited to be served. His glances had evoked a reawakening of my desires which had remained repressed for over a whole year.

After that we saw each other sometimes on the campus. A few times we chatted briefly. I learnt he was a post-doc in engineering. He had been at the university for a year. Every time we met I could feel his eyes slide over my body with barely concealed lust. Winter was fast approaching the mid west. One day I was coming back to my apartment after grocery shopping and had just parked my car when Basheer came driving by. He waved to me and I waved back. I had a lot of packages to take up to the apartment. Basheer also parked his car and came up to me and offered to help carry the packages up. I could not refuse his help. Once inside the apartment he asked me if my friend was around. I had to tell him that she had gone out for the weekend. I felt obliged to offer him coffee since he had been so helpful. As we sat down on the couch in the living room and sipped coffee we chatted a bit about different things. His left arm was on the sofa back behind me. As he finished his cup of coffee he swiftly slipped his hand down to my shoulder pulling me to him very firmly and kissed me. I was expecting it but struggled a bit just to pretend I was not. And then his mouth came down hard on my lips. Over whelmed I surrendered to the wave of pleasure that now swept over me. All the desire pent up, during the long period of abstinence, now broke as I threw my arms around this Muslim man who had pounced on me with the unerring instinct of the predator that he was.
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My Encounters With Muslim Men : A Hindu Girl' Recollections. Episode 1
Posted:Sep 10, 2017 7:59 pm
Last Updated:May 13, 2019 8:51 pm
5256 Views

Murtaza : Part. 6

For nearly 2 years he enjoyed my body. During my first and second year at college in Delhi our relationship continued. Because of the difference in our age and the need for secrecy I could not go out with him. He could for the same reason not take me to a hotel. So he continued using this safe place in our building itself even though it was quite inconvenient. He started taking me there when the coast was clear and Sundays and holidays when the maintenance staff were not there. I often wondered if he had bribed the maintenance staff to keep out of the way, because we were never caught. We would slip in. The place was not too clean, so we could not lie down. Except when he managed to bring a durry and a sheet with him, we did it standing. He would make me bend over and enter me from behind. When he brought the durry and sheet he would make me to kneel and suck him and then make me kneel on all fours and mount me from behind. He loved mounting from behind. I also started liking it the most. Because we had to be surreptitious and find a safe opportunity we used to do it only once or twice a month. A few times, when his wife was away with his , he secreted me into his apartment and spent whole afternoons taking me in different positions.

Over two years of meeting him for sex I learnt a lot about him. He also taught me a lot. How to please a man while sucking him. How to respond when a man was taking me. How to provoke and arouse a man. How to make sex an overwhelmingly pleasurable sensual experience and not one of shallow sentimentality. He helped me in acknowledging my own sexuality honestly. He told me he loved deflowering Hindu girls. He had taken the virginity of many Hindu girls. He also recounted his experiences with a lot of married Hindu women too. While he was in a relationship with me he continued having sex with others. He talked about why Hindu girls and women in sarees held such a fascination for Muslim men. He felt the saree as a dress was subtle but very enticing. The saree covers a lot of the body but gives glimpses of the lush curves of the Hindu woman, which hold the promise of unrestrained enjoyment. Especially when worn with sleeve less blouses, deep necks and backless design it arouses the deepest lust in Muslim men.

He explained to me the special feeling that Muslim men of the sub-continent get in having sex with Hindu women and girls- the feeling of domination, invading and occupying our bodies. He told me they freaked out on our blazing sexuality when we not only surrendered and submitted but responded eagerly to their lewdest overtures. They knew of the hidden desires and unending hunger of Hindu girls for the virility and fullness of Muslim manhood and exploited it for their own unrestrained enjoyment. He told me Hindu girls are like bitches, unashamed and wanting to be mounted ruthlessly, relentlessly and remorselessly. (" Tum log bikul kutiyoon ke tarah ho. Besharam ho ke karwati ho jab hum chadhte hain tum pe berehami se.") My own deep sensuality found expression in our relationship. I was disconsolate and inconsolable when he was transferred from his post and had to leave Delhi. We never met after that ever, even though he lives in my memories as the one who awakened and fashioned my sexuality.

Read about my next Muslim lover in Episode 2: Basheer Ahmad
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My Encounters With Muslim Men : A Hindu Girl' Recollections. Episode 1
Posted:Sep 8, 2017 8:41 pm
Last Updated:May 13, 2019 8:52 pm
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Murtaza : Part 5

When I wanted to leave after that he didn't let me. He asked me to stay back for some time more. I had enjoyed taking Murtaza's lund in my mouth even though it was my first time. I had been aroused but I had not had an orgasm. So I was more than willing to tarry awhile. As we sat there chatting Murtaza was playing with my breasts lazily. He also pulled back my saree, which was still draped over my hips and legs, up to my knees and put his hand under it. Slowly caressing my inner thighs he also started kissing my breasts. I was getting very aroused. With out his asking me I reached out and gripped his lund. He was semi hard but as my fingers stroked his shaft it started it started getting harder. Then I leaned across him and kissed the head of his manhood. He was quite surprised that I was willingly doing that without his prompting me. That aroused him even more. He pushed his hand deeper under my saree and petticoat and pulling aside my panty inserted his middle finger in my cunt. He touched my clitoris, tweaking it. I was very excited and took his lund in my mouth. Sucking it and wrapping my tongue around it as he grunted. His lund reared up getting very hard again and jerking in my mouth. He pulled me off his lund and rolled me over to kneel on all fours.

Impatiently he hitched up my saree and petticoat over my waist baring my hips and buttocks. He practically tore off my panty and I was in a hurry too, to get it off . Looking back I put my hand behind me and grasped his lund squeezing it and stroking it. For just a moment I turned back and kissed his lund spreading my saliva on the big circumcised head. His lund was now slick and shiny , glistening as it reared up. Eager now to be mounted I turned my back to him again. I wanted his Muslim lund so much. But he did not do that. Instead he rubbed the blunt moist supara against my labia teasing me with it. Suddenly he smacked me hard on my buttocks. I winced. My hips were swaying. I was impatient to feel his hardness entering me. He realized I was now simply expiring with desire. With one swift thrust his supara lodged itself in the mouth of my cunt. I gasped as I felt it's heat throbbing in my moistness. And then at last he thrust again sending his shaft surging into me. My back arched as I moaned with pleasure. Shamelessly I pressed my bum back, my body seeking the rock hard lund of Murtaza. He was now pounding me hard. Thrusting, pulling back and then thrusting in hard again. I could not help it but I was moaning very loudly. His big Muslim lund was spearing me mercilessly as his hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh . Then he slapped my buttocks hard reddening the cheeks.

I felt like a bitch, knotted inside by his rampant Muslim lund. I was caught in a vortex of sensual enjoyment, unrestrained, untrammeled, unbound. He was penetrating me cruelly, long thrusts followed by sharp, short digs. His hands which were roaming all over my back, my flanks, my hips, my breasts as they swung, my quivering buttocks, reached out to grab my hair and pull back my head. I turned my head back as he leaned over and we kissed, his tongue entering my mouth to entwine with my own. He bit my lips. Releasing my hair he looked down between us to see himself entering the sheath of my womanhood framed by the moons of my bum cheeks. My hair loose, my head was twirling as his lust overwhelmed me. My release suddenly came upon me as wave after wave of pleasure swept over me, radiating from my womanhood now grasping the intruder hard. Murtaza had not cum. He continued surging and throbbing inside me. Then another wave of pleasure overtook my body, almost unbearable in it's intensity. Murtaza still did not find his release. He kept relentlessly pumping his shaft inside me. Grinding into my buttocks his hips were jammed against me. He was kneading my swaying breasts. I wailed as my third orgasm washed over me. Shuddering in a final wave lubricity, my cunt was squeezing and wringing his lund in one last twist. He still seemed intent on pounding me into submission, a sweet surrender. As I went limp, exhausted and satiated I felt him lunge into me so hard that I cried out and then I felt him throb, swell and spasm. But I was surprised when he pulled out at that moment. I felt empty as he withdrew his lund. Then I felt the hot scalding sticky maal hitting the mouth of my cunt and then all over my buttocks. He kept cumming a long time holding his lund in his hand, spraying it all over my back in globs. Then standing behind me he was spreading with his hands the thick sticky maal which he had splashed all over my hips and bum. It was as though he was massaging me with his maal in a symbolic gesture of possession, an act of occupation.

I was hardly able to clean myself there. I was afraid anyone seeing me would suspect something. But fortunately no one noticed when I got back home. I quickly had a bath and changed into fresh clothes even though I would have liked to have his cum all over me. It would have been an acknowledgement that I was his woman glorying in being possessed by him.

Read the sequel in my next post.
11 Comments
My Encounters With Muslim Men : A Hindu Girl' Recollections. Episode 1
Posted:Sep 7, 2017 8:20 pm
Last Updated:Jan 18, 2018 12:25 am
5677 Views

Murtaza : Part 4

Now I was thinking about Murtaza all the time. Often lost in a reverie of lewd thoughts about how he used to take me. So when he called me on my mobile a few days later I was excited. He asked me to come down to that room behind the elevator. It was late afternoon. My mom was at home. Telling her I was dropping in on a friend nearby I eagerly walked out and rushed down in the elevator. I was in a saree and blouse. Seeing the coast was clear I slipped into the room at the back. Murtaza was waiting there for me. I was surprised to see he had brought a durry ( a pile less Indian carpet) and a bedsheet. Spreading the durry on the floor where it was clear, he spread the bedsheet on top of it. Then he turned around and caught me in a tight embrace and kissed my lips and almost bruised them. He stuck his tongue in my mouth. His hands were on my breasts, my hips and my buttocks. I was surprised with myself when I put my hand down and touched the hard bulge in his pants. He took the pallu of my saree off my shoulder and quickly opened my blouse and took them off. Then he unhooked my bra and pulled it off too. I was now naked from the waist up. I did not understand what he was doing when he put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me down. As he pushed I was forced to kneel down before him. When he unzipped his trousers and pulled them down I saw his manhood again, huge rampant and rearing up before my face. He was looking down and smiling. He asked me to kiss it. I refused but he did not bother.

Gripping my hair tightly with both hands he bent my head on to his hardness. My lips brushed against the huge blunt bulbous circumcised head of his manhood (supara). I struggled to break his grip on my hair but could not. I was expecting his manhood to be smelly. But it was very fragrant, because he had used some men's perfume. I did not feel any revulsion. He had again come prepared for this encounter. I realized that he had planned my undoing very carefully. Mixed with the fragrance of the perfume was a strange musky male smell. I was now staring at his manhood very close to my mouth. It seemed even bigger and harder, an instrument of the destruction of my female modesty. Unable to escape his hand forcing me on to his dick ( lund), I yielded. In the eye of his supara I saw a drop of sticky fluid. I put out my tongue tip and he laughed and pressed that tip against my tongue. I tasted that drop on my tongue. It was salty and tangy, almost like a raw egg. I was really shocked with myself for doing this. He relaxed his hold on my hair and brushed his monstrous, angry red supara against my lips. Then as my lips parted he pushed his dickhead into my mouth and commanded me to suck it ('chusoo'. I started sucking this rock hard circumcised supara slowly. He was sliding his lund in and out of my mouth leisurely taking his time to savor the lips forming a tight o around his deeply veined shaft. I was now coming to terms with sucking his lund. Taking his left hand off my hair he reached down to grasp my naked right breast. Gripping my breast hard he was moving my head with his other hand. I started enjoying this new experience. He sensed it and increased the pace of his thrusting. I was also now sucking his circumcised lund faster. I loved the feel of his rampant thick hardness surging in my mouth while his hand was fondling my breast.

Suddenly he pulled out of my mouth and asked me to lick his supara. It was wet and glistening with my saliva on it. I started to lick the huge knob. Instinctively I seemed to know what he wanted. My tongue teased the eye of his supara. Then my tongue traced the line of the veins along the side of his shaft. Coming back to the supara I ran my tongue along the ridge of his knob. He was now uncontrollably aroused. Gripping my hair very tight he rammed his lund in my mouth, thrusting cruelly. I submitted to it, enjoying his arousal. My cheeks hollowed as I sucked his lund eagerly. He went deeper into my mouth right into my throat. I was breathless. Unable to breathe I gagged on the this Muslim man's lund now jammed against my throat. My face turned red as I was choking on it. Seeing my distress he pulled back a bit. Gulping for air I felt his lund throbbing in my mouth. I was now breathing hard as he kept pumping into my mouth in a frenzy. My lips were aching. I felt his lund tremble and swell in my mouth. He suddenly grunted and threw back his head. His hips pressed into my face. Both his hands now gripped my head tight and I felt him flood my mouth with his cum (maal). He kept cumming and cumming but his hold on my hair did not relax. I realized I would have to swallow it all. I gulped and the maal went down my throat.
After awhile he pulled out looking down at me. He ordered me to lick his shaft and clean it.
I could not refuse having come so far with him. So I held his lund with one hand and bent over and licked it clean. He looked very pleased with himself as he squatted down beside me. He put his hand on my naked shoulder and kissed me very possessively. We were not done that day. More awaited me.

Read the sequel in my next post.
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