Chapter 1
You are reading ”Páqéstäní Ŝháhí Falooda" - part of the Brides of Páqéstan interfaith erotica series.
I hope you have enjoy reading this inter-faith erotica. As always, I’m interested in what you think. Email me at [email protected] and share your thoughts, comments, questions, concerns, fantasies, raves and rants.
OBLIGATORY AND OBVIOUS DISCLAIMER: This story is dedicated to dark and extreme fantasies about beautiful women of an imaginary kingdom. This is a very offensive erotica about inter-faith rape-fantasy, nation-play, faith-play, race-play, hate-fuck, impregnation, cheating-wife, cuckoldry, male-domination, female-enslavement and similar nastiness. Emphasis on FANTASY. Everything on this story is fantasy, and doesn’t reflect my actual beliefs. They are not excuses to be racist, communal or misogynistic for real or to be just a shitty person in general. No harm is intended to anyone. None of the events, places, communities and characters exist in real life, and are all purely for the reader’s spicy, and kinky pleasure. These things are generally considered bad, so don’t do any of them. Don’t even watch porn about them, just read stories where no actual human being even has to pretend they are happening. Cool? This is a sexual fantasy that is hot in your head but never in reality. So don’t do them. Glad we had this chat.
If you are offended or under 18, I sincerely apologize and ask that you remove this page immediately.
Chalo Láwhöre
Rohit Gupta was sitting in seat 23B, the middle seat. The seats on either side of his were empty, for now. The passengers were steadily streaming onto the plane. As each passenger approached, Rohit silently evaluated them and put them into one of two categories. Either he wouldn’t mind if they were in his row or he prayed they would not be.
Rohit fixed his gaze at the obese businessman in the cheap polyester trousers and too tight shirt. Rohit’s spirits sank as the man stopped at his row and checked his boarding pass, shoved his carry-on into the overhead bin and slid into the aisle seat with a huge sigh. The men nodded at each other. The businessman pulled out his phone, dialed and began a too loud conversation about some clothes deal.
More passengers filed past. Finally, Rohit began to think he might have an empty seat to his left. He would slide over to the window seat and distance himself from the odor of his seatmate and have a bit of breathing room. Just as Rohit was about to unbuckle his seatbelt, he looked up and saw a fair-skinned, elegant looking woman trying to get the attention of the jabbering businessman. The aisle seat was apparently hers.
Without breaking stride in his conversation, the chubby businessman stood up and backed away from the row. The woman looked around for a place to stow her carry-on bag. Rohit could see there was a space in the bin a row back behind her, but she was looking the wrong way. Knowing he would have to get up anyway, Rohit stood.
“There’s a spot up here. Let me help you,” he said, lifting her small roller-bag up and into the open slot. The woman smiled, not looking directly at Rohit and slid along the row, settling into the window seat.
She quietly said, “Shuqriya.” She shifted uncomfortably in the seat. She was wearing a plain green jacket that gave her a formless shape and was clearly too heavy.
Rohit sat back down and the businessman plopped beside him, still talking as if he was the only one on board. The woman kept fidgeting and finally began to unzip the jacket and tried to remove it while jammed in the close quarters of the window seat. Rohit saw her struggling and he pushed up the arm rest between them to give her a bit more room. She managed to get the jacket off and laid it across her lap. Rohit began to notice that this fair-skinned woman had a sweet, soft face. Her skin was pale and her mop of silky hair was partially covering her expression of consternation.
“Everything ok, madamji?” Rohit asked. She seemed to be in some kind of discomfort. He was concerned out of kindness, but also because he wanted to have a quiet flight. A sick or agitated seatmate would not be a good thing.
The woman sighed and replied, “Yes. I’m fine. I’m...just a little uncomfortable… It’s too hot in here…” With that she shoved the jacket from her lap to underneath the seat in front of her. As she sat back, relieved, Rohit noticed that the woman appeared to have a huge chest. It was hard to tell from where he was sitting, but Rohit perceived this woman had a very top-heavy figure.
