Payal ki Jhankar Ch. 11

As Payal wondered what he meant, Adel returned to the bed and flipped her over. His cock was somewhat greasy with his ejaculate and the lubrication was just enough to enable the top part entry into her rectum. Payal was still a bit sore from the ass-fucking she had been subjected to by two of the Kenyans at the orgy and had to hold back a scream that built up inside her from the intense pain. She instinctively punched his ribcage by extending her hand backwards. As he halted for just a moment, she pointed at a set of creams atop the drawer. Adel understood instinctively that she was okay with anal penetration but not with unoiled ass rape. He kissed the back of her neck to assure her that he would comply, grabbed a bottle, rubbed cream on the part of his cock not yet inside her and pressed forward. This time his ingress was relatively easy and Payal did not fight. She expected that he would be quick about anal sex, but seemed that he had learned from their fuck just a few minutes earlier and decided to take his time. Or perhaps anal sex was what he truly was more interested in. When he finally soiled Payal's anal passage with his cum, she felt that a drill had worked overtime on her backside.

"My dad really does want to get out of the hotel business, as none of us brothers are likely to keep the company together when he dies," Adel confessed as he dressed up.

"And I imagine you would be keen on Chen Holdings making an offer accordingly?" Payal had remained nude and on the bed, recovering from the sexual activity, but focused on what her newest sexual partner was saying.

"Chile is really nice this time of year," Adel ventured, "and we have some non-core properties there that I am sure we could have an equally friendly and productive negotiation over!"

IX

Naziran's life appeared to definitely be on an up and upwards trajectory. Not only was her film career outside of Pakistan keeping her busy, she had few concerns about being victimized by Haqnawaz. The man was still legally her husband but could not hold sway over her thoughts and actions in Britain or India as he could at home. Sure enough she had found reasons to worry about him even less, now that she held a bona fide British passport and her sister, Ruqaiya, was making an impression in fashion circles around Europe.

One cause of her great happiness was her new friendship with Indian filmmaker, Asif Dehlavi, who had been shooting plenty of films in the UK and had starred Naziran in one of the better offerings. Soon after they had first met, at an event celebrating one of her movies, Asif had confessed that he too came from an underprivileged background and was drawn to Naziran because of her struggles against society. A couple of weeks later they were in bed. This situation had continued for a few months and both could sense a definite future step.

"So what's all this about being at home tonight and not having something to do tomorrow?" Naziran quizzed Asif as she conversed with him over the phone.

"It will all be revealed late tonight," he promised, leaving her wondering.

She figured it was a new script or a meeting with another producer or director that could only be scheduled in the late hours. If it was only sex involved, he would simply have come on over and fucked her, not called in advance and made an appointment of sorts. Still she was piqued by the strange nature of his request.

Imagining that some sort of formality was required, she selected an embroidered khaki shalwar kameez suit with intricate embroidery. On one hand, this was an extremely conservative dress as it hid every part of her body, excepting her face and hands. On the other, it drew one's attention to her ample assets. The visage was clearly designed to please whoever would be sitting across from her later in the evening. Should there have been a news crew there with a photographer, the look she presented would be sufficient to garner a good slot in Indian movie magazines.

Naziran was surprised when Asif showed up on his own around 11 p.m. He was carrying a large bunch of flowers and some other packages. She wondered if any other folks were waiting outside and would follow shortly but none materialized. She gracefully accepted the flowers from him and signalled for a young maidservant to put them into a vase. His next action totally floored her.

"My darling, please be mine forever," was all Asif said as he held up a beautiful diamond ring.

"What!" Naziran was dumbstruck as a marriage proposal was completely not on her radar at the moment.

Asif moved up to her, grasped her hand and put the ring on the appropriate finger. His arms went around her waist, hers joined about his neck, and their lips came together in a deep kiss. Their mouths continuously joined together, they somehow managed to climb the staircase up to the master bedroom. Asif's hands found the zipper for her kameez and worked it all the way down. The heavy material slipped to either side of her and the garment dropped to the ground around Naziran's feet. The shalwar was equally easy to dispense with as clasps on it opened without a problem. A few moments later, Asif had totally bared her body, disposing of any barrier her slip, bra and panties presented.

Naziran stretched out on the feathery duvet that covered her bed, awaiting the insertion of his cock into her vagina. Asif was on top of her in just a jiffy, having disrobed himself in haste. Naziran felt her insides filling up as Asif pushed forward. He was by no means the most endowed person that she had ever fucked, but on this night she felt like she was being torn apart by a giant. Asif pumped on and on, giving her one orgasm after another. She was unconcerned that he was fucking her unprotected as after all he was going to marry her shortly. Asif bucked a few times and released his pent up load into Naziran, who squealed with pleasure as her own climax occurred.

"Do I have your answer?" Asif queried her as they nestled together in bed, sticky from recent exertion.

"Let me confirm my reply," Naziran cooed, as she grabbed onto his cock and covered it with her open mouth.

She was going to be Mrs. Dehlavi, wife of an Indian movie mogul, and free of the cruelties and hypocrisy of her feudal society and her sadistic former master. Life just could not get any better.

X

Payal felt that the business environment and her sense of security had improved in the couple of years that elapsed since Shahnawaz was murdered. Her role as Executive VP had kept her very busy. She had certainly not shied away from using her beauty as a tool in business negotiations. She had learned that it was not necessary to spread her legs to get ahead in the vast majority of deals, just a simple well placed look or touch could do the trick. In fact, since her tryst with Adel, she had only been to bed with a Russian who was being pursued with regards to an oil pipeline through the region. It had not been a memorable fuck but the rewards made up for being with the otherwise despicable man.

It was not that Payal had lacked for male company or sexual gratification. Clarence had regularly made love to her during Payal's bi-monthly business visits to Malaysia. She had also hooked up with Mike Whittaker a few times while traveling to the US or being at an international event he was participating in. While both were accomplished lovers and she enjoyed their physical touch and great company, neither could make up for the loss of her husband. Still things had turned out much better than what she first had envisioned.

World affairs often impinge on peoples' lives and the events of September 11, 2001 tended to impact many more than usual. Travel and hospitality businesses suffered worldwide, new visa regimes were adopted by many countries, and many countries found their citizens' travel rights limited due to non-issuance of permits. One of the most affected countries was Pakistan, which was forced into the US war on terror despite significant sympathy for Bin Laden and the Taliban amongst the public. Suddenly Payal found herself needing to plan well in advance of trips to get visas, suffering added hassles at entry points to most countries, and being looked at with suspicion for being from a turbulent part of the world. Even someone as powerful as Mike Whittaker could not involve himself with US consular affairs in Islamabad or Kuala Lumpur. Things took a turn for the worst as first the NATO invasion of Afghanistan in 2002 and then the US attack on Iraq in 2003 occurred.

"I might have a workable suggestion for you," Clarence whispered into Payal's ear as he undid the zipper on her dress.

"I'll be frank, this new set of restrictions is really getting to me," Payal responded as the dress dropped around her feet as she concurrently unhooked her bra while Clarence slid her panties down.

Payal had been visiting Malaysia for one of the periodic board meetings and Clarence had ensured that they would spend some quality time together having sex. Caroline had already told Payal that she was okay with the arrangement and that perhaps one day a ménage a trois may be on the cards. Payal had not yet decided if she would be up for that sort of activity, even though she had indeed indulged accordingly with Mike Whittaker and his assistant, Raylene, on a trip to Istanbul some years earlier.

Laying Payal down on the bed in her suite, Clarence quickly got on top and slid his cock into her pussy. The conversation interrupted by the start of their coupling, both focused on the enjoyment they were getting from their close contact. Their fucking was no longer a situation of opportunity found and love violently made, rather they had come to truly appreciate each other in a relatively sedate but very pleasurable way. Clarence was slow and measured in his strokes and Payal held on to him to lengthen the time till both were spent. Missionary sex had been the norm ever since she had been widowed and neither saw the need to change a pattern that other couples may have found repetitive or boring. Clarence enjoyed the feel of her breasts every time he moved in and out of her, raising and lowering his chest. The pace was slow enough to stretch their passion, yet it was quick enough to ensure both stayed interested.

"You need to apply for Malaysian citizenship," Clarence advised her as they took a momentary breather from his pumping.

"Is that possible?" Payal wondered, while concurrently feeling her vagina contract as she hit another orgasm.

"There is a scheme to offer the facility to investors and I'd imagine you meet the requirements," Clarence added as he started pushing in and out of her again, "and I am certain that the Chen Group could be of assistance."

Payal had another climax and this time Clarence was unable to hold back, spewing his seed into her. He had rarely used a condom when fucking Payal and so far the use of Chinese herbs to prevent any pregnancy had been successful. In any case, they both would have been smart enough to ensure that no unnecessary complications occurred but had not needed to take other more drastic actions so far.

As Clarence disengaged and headed to the shower, Payal lay back and thought about what he had just said. It made perfect sense to move to Malaysia, given that she was working with the Chen Group, the kids were familiar with the country, Clarence and Caroline had been great friends, her property was already in Chen Group shares, Haqnawaz could not touch her there, and the passport was a relatively hassle-free travel document.

XI

Haqnawaz had more lives than the proverbial nine of a cat. Every time it appeared that his star had waned and his misdeeds had caught up to him, some quirk of fate or, more likely, use of influence enabled him to land back on his feet. The attempted murder case relating to Payal's parents, the default on bank debts and plenty of other dark chapters populated his story, but he kept coming through relatively unscathed

Yet again he had an opportunity to come out of his situation of forced self-exile. Bowing to world pressure, General Musharraf had agreed to parliamentary polls in 2002. The Pakistan Peoples' Party of Benazir Bhutto and the Pakistan Muslim League (N) of Nawaz Sharif were not allowed a free campaign. The result was a foregone conclusion, with the Musharrf-backed Pakistan Muslim League (Q) winning but without an absolute majority. Sensing an opportunity, Haqnawaz had made significant overtures to the PML-Q through his buddy Wajahat Hussein, a younger brother of the party leader. Haqnawaz had known Wajahat while both were at Aitchison College in Lahore. Haqnawaz had been expelled after about four years at the elite school for buggery, a common occurrence at the all-male institution. He had remained friends with Wajahat, however, and now played his cards correctly.

Nominated as the PML-Q candidate from his district, Haqnawaz was an easy victor in the rigged polls and once again found himself close to the corridors of power. Rather than trying not to repeat past mistakes, he reverted to form in hatching plans against Payal, other family members and assorted real and imagined enemies.

The request for an amiable divorce from Naziran was the last thing he had expected to receive. He could not believe that the servant who he had elevated was now trying to dictate terms to him. Had she been around, he would have not hesitated to strangle her. Unfortunately for him and lucky for Naziran, she was untouchable outside of Pakistan. He was twice as angry with her anyway. Ruqaiya, Naziran's younger sister, was the talk of the town in western fashion circles and the fact that his own wife had hidden her so that he had no opportunity of sexual conquest really riled him. He was not amenable to a friendly arrangement and took his time planning his move.

Naziran, having filed the motion for divorce, got involved in a new movie project in India, which kept her close to Asif but dragged longer than expected. It was more than one year after her first filing that a second contact with Haqnawaz was made concerning the matter. By this time he had a plan in mind to get even.

"I am open to a settlement that is face-saving and done in a friendly manner," he told her lawyer, "but the dictates of religious law require that our declarations be made to each other in person."

"I am so happy to hear that," the lawyer figured things were done and his fee was secure, "and will make arrangements for your visit to the UK."

"Actually since the marriage was in Pakistan, any such declaration needs to be made here," Haqnawaz closed the trap, "and in any case I am too busy as a legislator to travel outside the country."

The lawyer was less sure of things now, but rushed out to communicate with Naziran. Haqnawaz smiled as he figured that the first step towards revenge had been taken. It was time to celebrate and one hour later he lay in the embrace of a top call-girl from Lahore that Wajahat had often patronized.

XII

Payal was very surprised by the phone call from Naziran. The two had not had any contact for about three years, each focusing on her new career and life situation. However, the condition set by Haqnawaz for divorce had created common ground for them once again. Given that Payal was traveling shortly to Paris anyway for a meeting, a trip to London was no trouble at all.

Payal patiently listened as Naziran detailed how things had developed with Asif Dehlavi, the possibility that Haqnawaz was ready for an amicable settlement given that Naziran had no plans to return to Pakistan long-term, and the sudden conditions imposed by him.

"There is no way that Haqnawaz has suddenly reformed himself and will just let you go," she advised Naziran and got a positive nod of the head from her friend.

"That is what I am also thinking," Naziran concurred.

"Perhaps I might be able to get some further information," Payal suggested, recalling that the British couple she had met in the Seychelles prior to her husband's murder had links to the British Ministry of Justice.

She was soon able to find Brian and Marjorie Huntington-Jones. They were shocked to hear of Shahnawaz's demise and expressed condolences when Payal and Naziran went over to talk about the situation at hand. Their home in a fashionable part of London was not far from Naziran's apartment, where Payal had accepted an invitation to stay. Shortly after pleasantries and coffee were dispensed with, the discussion began in earnest, with Marjorie and Naziran doing most of the talking. After about an hour, Brian noted that Payal was not actively participating. He nudged her and asked if she was interested in seeing his collection of old international weaponry he had amassed during his military and civil service career. Payal knew that Brian would have more on his mind, but did not want to be the third wheel as Marjorie and Naziran discussed serious matters. She had, after all, fucked him in the Seychelles, and today he was doing her friend a favour.

His collection was nicely displayed in the finished basement of the house. While she had figured it would be stocked with British weapons and little else, she was surprised by items related to the US Civil War, the Biafra conflict, the 1973 Arab-Israeli War, and even the 1965 India-Pakistan conflict. As Payal admired a pirate sword, Brian came up behind her, placed his right hand on her breast and the left one on her leg.

"You are a still a dirty old man," Payal responded as he turned her around and joined her lips to his in an extended kiss.

"Guilty as charged young lady," Brian replied, slowly removing the white sweater she was wearing to reveal a lacy bra. His hands hooked into her short white skirt and Payal did not interfere in their removal. Her bra and panties vanished likewise in a matter of seconds. Brian led Payal to a nook where a worktable was located and bent her over it. His hands parted her legs a bit to allow his cock to line up with Payal's pussy. Brian pushed forward and his member easily entered her already wet insides.

With Payal propped on the table, one leg on the ground and the other hanging over a side, Brian started to push in and pull out in a measured and steady rhythm. She had to call on all her reserves to suppress a loud moan of ecstasy as he managed to hit the right spots inside her. Just after she had an extended orgasm, Brian pulled out.

"We were unable to do this the last time, "he said, "but I have been dying to collect!"

As Payal momentarily wondered what he meant, he turned her over on the table and placed her legs over his shoulders. In just a second, his cock had found its way into her anus. Brian did have the foresight to put some lubricant on his penis, though it was already quite oily with the juices from her cunt. Holding tightly onto her thighs, Brian began to fuck her in earnest, while his fingers worked on her pussy. This time there was no question of Payal holding back an audible shriek.

"Brian, Payal, is everything okay down there?" Marjorie yelled down from the doorway.

"Quite alright, darling," was Brian's matter-of-fact response, "Payal just tripped!"

The door to the basement closed as Marjorie figured all was well. Brian resumed his anal penetration but at a less intense pace this time. It was a while before he shot his load into her and disengaged.

Their house, being an old English building, had no washroom in the basement or ground floor and going up to the second level would look exceptionally suspicious. Payal had to make do with Brian wiping her off to the best of his ability with a box of tissues. While there was no overt sign of copulation, the smell of sex was strongly on her. She had to retort to spraying herself with perfume from her handbag, but the masking of odors was not complete.