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.
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Shehbazpur 90's
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 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
