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Disclaimer: Originating in the Indian continent, some parts of this story contain words that are native to the region and I’ve tried to translate as best as I could for English speaking audiences. This story is fictional and any relation to real world events is coincidental. All characters are above 18. Being from a multicultural family, it’s not my intention to hurt anyone’s religious sentiment. If you cannot digest inter-religious sex, please stop and try something else.
It was still an hour till adhan. For the last few years, Arjun had spent most of his free time waiting to hear the sweet sound from the mosque. Nowadays he could tell by just looking at how low the sun was in the sky. Shehbazpur’s mosque was the largest one in the district; he’d never been inside of course, Hindu’s weren’t allowed. It sat in the middle of the town splitting Shehbazpur into two ilakas, the smaller eastern one where he lived along with other hindus, and the western muslim ilaka, where he would visit only when he had to play at the maidan.
On days like today, he would visit the bazaar near the center, to help his bhabhi shop and carry the things home. Rajkot’s movie theatre was too far away and the TV didn’t work unless it was a national holiday. So when his bhaiyya married and brought home Reshma bhabhi, it was like a firecracker went off in his teenage heart. To him she was more beautiful than the fairest begum’s in Shabazpur, with soft brown eyes & fine wavy hair, she was like karisma from the films.
The muslim gangs were the reason he avoided the western ilaka till adhan. The last time he had come home with a bruised and beaten face and his bhabhi had started crying. Nowadays he practised avoiding the main streets at least till the call for prayers. He was taking the small gully behind the bazaar that nobody used, kicking a smooth read and black stone while he walked. “Aaj bhi kho gayi hai chamiya? (Got lost again darling?),” he heard a deep voice. Startled Arjun spun around, but there was no one there. “Na huzoor. Bazaar pherne aayi thi (No, I’m not… Just shopping is all),” said a sweet familiar voice from the other side of the wall.
Arjun knew these gully’s and he quietly followed the wall where he could peek through the broken section. Crouching like a cat, he peered through the gap into the courtyard, heart hammering rapidly in his chest. Just on the other side, pinned against the wall, was his own Reshma bhabhi, her bright red shalwar pooled around her ankles. Arjun froze, eyes drawn to his bhabhi’s uncovered milky white calves. In front of her just inches away from Arjun stood a giant man wearing the white pashtuni, common in the western ilaka. “Pair phehla ke dikha de teri pyaasi choot (Spread your legs wide, you know the drill),” the musalman yanked his nada, casually topkapı escort loosening his pyjama. Unbelievably, bhabhi meekly parted her fleshy thighs, standing spread eagled against the wall. Arjun couldn’t breath, the horror of what he was seeing caught in his throat, yet as he watched, his cock stiffened.
Bhaiyya wouldn’t be back till the next week, he worked long hours at Rajkot. Arjun had promised him that he’d take care of bhabhi while he was gone. Now as he watched helplessly in front of his own eyes, another man, a musalman pressed against her spread legs and without resisting, bhabhi gave away her chastity. The musalman groaned loudly, swearing “badi aag hai tere hindu chut me (Seems your hindu cunt’s wet for me)”. His large hairy forearm coming into view, bunching up her rose coloured kameez higher and exposing her soft stomach and deep navel. Only recently married, a kala dhaga parted the flesh of her waist, it should have protected her from evil but the boy watched as it hung impotent. His own bhabhi was being shamefully unclothed and disgraced, but Arjun’s cock was turning painfully rigid and for the first time he started seeing his bhabhi as a healthy young Haryanvi woman.
“Itni jaldi apne mard ko bhool gayi. Sachmuch pyaasi chut ki rakhel nikli (You’re still tight after all this time. Hubby not takin care of ya then),” the muscular man taunted, grinning as he vigorously moved his hips, tails of his pathani kurta flapping with each violent thrust.
“Phasake aapne marzi liya hai, Jaldi paani nikaal de (Just get it over with you swine),” she pleaded, eyes shut tight, her pretty face was contorted, head leaning back & bumping against the worn brick wall behind her.
“Kitna tadpaogi, musalmani kutub pe teri paani nikal gayi? (I can feel your wetness. Did you just cum on my cut cock)”, he said. She couldn’t even respond. The wide lips that would smile at Arjun’s every small mischief, were now pulled back in a grimace, revealing pristine white teeth.
The musalmani had not bothered to pull down his pyjama, leaving the young boy to only occasionally see a glimpse of his cock, monstrous and unbelievable, his eyes locked onto the musalaman’s open knot. In between the pathani kurta would hide the size, but he still got flashes of the cut topi (cockhead), swollen purple and almost as big as his own clenched fist.
Turning his face, the musalman suddenly looked towards the wall. Arjun caught a glimpse of a rugged square jaw with a thick beard, black and imposing before hastily ducking behind the wall. Arjun’s heart raced, every muscle wound tight waiting to flee, but the sounds behind the wall didn’t stop. Her soft sharp moans, the rhythmic sound of flesh slapping flesh, and his heavy breathing told him that they hadn’t noticed. A red paste splattered türbanlı escort near his feet and gingerly poking his head out he saw the musalmani chewing paan, the red juice running down his oiled beard.
Arjun’s eyes were mesmerised and from this close, he could see every detail of their act. Each time the musalmani slammed into her, the soft ripple along her belly would precede a slight bulging just below her naval. His cock was much bigger than the tiny one the young boy was furiously jerking.
“Hai ram, maf kari de (Lord, please have mercy),” she softly pleaded. Her thin red bangles tinkling, her fingers clawing at the wall behind her, Reshma trembled under his fierce assault. She was struggling to stand, her thighs were spread lewdly, one ankle lifting from the ground to balance herself . The gold mangalsutra around her neck bounced up with each thrust, drawing attention to her smooth fair neck. The young boy unconsciously had pulled out his stiff cock, rubbing furiously.
“Andar birya na chod, maasik din aa gaya hai (It’s my fertile time, please don’t cum inside),” she pleaded. Hearing her cry out only made the musalman thrust harder into her. His heavy frame pistoning into her and the sound of flesh hitting flesh only got more intense. His powerful body held her up while he fucked her, white skull cap barely moving, a monument to his stamina and strength. Bhabhi’s body shook as if she was in pain but she wasn’t fighting him off, instead she wrapped her hands around his frame.
“Tu ekbar qubool kar de, main teri god bharke ghar bhejoonga (Say yes and I’ll fill your womb and send you home),” he whispered pausing to look into her eyes. A keening sound came from within her throat. She tried to move but the musalman locked her body still like he was handling a child. “Qubool hai?,” he asked again.
The world around Arjun held it’s breath, locked in the moment, waiting for her response. The back of his mind flooded with cold prickly dread, realising what those words would mean for him, his brother, their family, surely she wouldn’t take it that far.
“Qubool hai,” the words torn from her, froze Arjun’s racing heart cold.
Smiling, the musalmani, only leaned in capturing her soft lips with his and took his time tasting her. Bhabhi’s chest rose up sharply, pushing out her breasts as she was ravaged by the filthy musalman’s tongue. The young boy saw the red paan staining her pretty mouth and teeth, a strand of saliva still connecting the musalmani beard with her mouth. He had marked her as his. The dull grey sweat stained pashtuni was having his way with Arjun’s pure hindu bhabhi in a gully barely a street away from the busy sabzi mandi.
The musalman bellowed loudly and pushed himself deep inside Reshma, lifting her body from the ground tüyap escort and pinning her to the brick wall. The young boy had been pulling on his cock all this while and now as young as he was, he couldn’t hold himself back. Streams of his clear youthful jism dripped down the dirty brick wall. Gasping for breath, he looked back to see in shock that the musalmani was still cumming inside Reshma, who was clinging fiercely to him. Her hands wrapped around his neck, and her ankles locked behind his thighs.
The musalmani’s hips clenched and pushed in time with each spurt while he swore loudly “godh bhar le randi hindu thakkar (I’m filling your slutty hindu womb).” Incredibly, thick white drops of his cum fell in time with his spurts. After unloading himself, the musalman’s body visibly relaxed, and he sighed in deep pleasure. Leaning to kiss her again, he took his time savouring her. Resham kept clinging to him until he slowly pulled away and let her down. Pulling up and tying the knot of his pyjama, he whispered something into her ears and promptly turned and left.
The young boy, was hard again, his youthful cock, painfully erect, couldn’t calm down. Reshma bhabhi’s cheeks were flushed, a sheen of sweat all over her face and neck and a rich creamy gleam staining her inner calves. The musalmani cum running along her legs is what gave him courage. He left his hiding place, cock in hand and without a word, he walked up to Resham bhabhi and placed it against her used cunt. Her dazed expression, changed to shock suddenly seeing Arjun in front of her but she surprisingly didn’t push him away. Not knowing how long his luck would hold, Arjun thrust his hips forward, experiencing a pleasure, his inexperienced cock had never felt. Her wet hole was burning with heat, and the thick musalmani cum made it easy for him to push all of his cock inside easily. Engulfed by her and not knowing how, he rutted like a street dog, with quick short strokes. Looking at Reshma bhabhi in front of him, he felt like it was a dream.
Her normally parted combed hair was a mess, drifting along her flushed face, pink from exhaustion. Her lips were stained red with paan, and now he could make out a bite mark on the pale flesh of her neck. Her cunt felt so incredible that even though he had cum just minutes ago, he could not hold himself any longer. He pushed himself deep inside her like he had seen the musalman do, burying his face in her neck, holding her warm soft body to him and let loose a stream of his cum. Clenching his teeth hard, the biggest orgasm of his young life took away his breath, he felt Resham bhabhi’s warm embrace, her hands held him to her as he unloaded stream after stream of his cum into her cunt. His weak juices adding to the powerful musalmani before him. His cock shrank rapidly and he felt the combined juices flow back down her thighs.
She kept holding him for a while and then gently said “ho gaya to pehen le, hum late ho gaya hai, saasu dhoond rahi hogi (If you’re done, let’s go back. Mom’s probably searching for us).”
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