I met Uncle Misha ten years ago, when once we started a conversation in a shop in our queue and he invited me for tea. In fact, his name was somehow unusual, since he himself was Caucasian, but then I could not remember his name, and as it was consonant with the name of Misha, I began to call him that. He had six children, three boys and three girls. The two youngest were charming twin girls, and they were called Nibal and Azhar. As it should be in Islam, the girls were quiet, modest and submissive, except maybe Azhar. The boys were fighting and muscular, on the pride of his father. Azhar's father was not happy, and he complained to me about her - they say, stubborn, daring, self-confident - she will not take any husband, she will have to give more money to the dowry. Well, I was joking, they say, I will take for inexpensive. My father laughed and said that it was too early, and so come. I took everything as a joke, wished the big family good night and left. We have not seen for a very long time, probably about five years.

When I came back, it turned out that the eldest got married and went somewhere far away, all the boys except the middle one got married and their wives moved to Uncle Misha, and a grandson is expected from one. Uncle Misha was terribly happy. Nibal is already getting married, but Azhar nobody wants to take. Just then Nibal and Azhar came out. Nibal is a bit plump, but it's to her face, with beautiful black eyes and full lips. Azhar and more beautiful - and slimmer, and skin is lighter, and facial features are more expressive. Here, Uncle Misha will say: “Take twins, I’ll be quieter - I don’t give to a stranger, but Azhar will at least learn to respect her husband, I trust you.” And inexpensive - and called the price. I agreed without hesitation, at once two but for nothing, and took them away. In Russia, for two you will not leave, so the second may just live with us. I really liked the idea of ​​polygamy.

While we were driving, Nibal kept on crying, was tearing home. I reassured, said that I would carry to my parents as often as she wished - it was no problem, and she seemed to calm down. She even looked at me with a kind of awe that was alien to me. And Azhar is silently looking out the window. What, I say, frowning, I'm taking to Moscow, beautiful! And she did not deign to answer. Come home. Nibal is hitting me, hitting me, but Azhar frowning behind me. So we did not make friends with her.

We healed well. Of course, it was ridiculous to deprive Nybal of virginity, but it’s impossible to have them before the wedding, but I just tore off my dress and entered the very eggs, she screamed and went limp, and later she finished for the first time. From that for the pleasure never leaves me. Since Azhar was harder. I resisted everything, resisted, I had to forcibly carve first, so that I would be submissive and then enter. I liked to whip her, and I started whipping them both. Nibal only whines and looks at me like a dog, silently, and Azhar swears in his incomprehensible language and spits in my face. But the more interesting I was and the more I got excited. And then Azhar began to quietly leave the house somewhere, while I was not there - I locked them with a key, and she somewhere found a second one, a bitch. I caught her a couple of times, raised her, sec, but everything is not in favor, well, I allowed her to go out, even give money to buy new things, just to be submissive. And she did not immediately go down that path. Immediately I changed the long colorful dresses and scarves to tops and jeans, and then emboldened and came to mini-skirts. She dyed her blond hair and stopped praying when they had Muslims there ... But Nibal was pleased — got pregnant quickly, it was strange that the birth went without complications — yet sixteen is not a joke, she gave birth to our daughter. But Azhar drinks all pills and contrasts, not once full-fledged sex, it was not. Once I returned from work angry - a blockage, quarreled with the boss, many were reduced, scary - I look, Azhar is lying on the bed masturbating. Well, I think for Muslim women too.Dai-ka, I think, the anus to her to hell to tear, will know - the dick is my noble hero. I tied it to the table, smeared it with vaseline and put it in. She scrambled like a fish in the air, screamed, began to crawl out of my hands, but I snapped it one hundred percent, tore my whole ass, poured sperm to my throat, and whipped it in the room. And then Nibal put in the ass, the current is more tender - and the "wife" (I did not officially marry her then), and the nursing one, and generally more humble. Azhar never forgave me.

Somehow came home, I look, Nibal is crying in the corner. I ask, they say, where is Azhar? And she - but Azhar will not return, she collected everything and left, promising me to write sometimes about myself. Well, I was terribly angry, fucked Nibal, like the last fucking man, beat him unconscious and put him to the wall, with weights on his breasts and pussy. She is crying, but worth it. My wife is cool. That day she got pregnant the second time. The boy was born. I did not look for Azhar - it is useless, and there is no sense, why, if I have Nibal. We decided to get married. They changed her name to Nina. Now, completely in Russian - Nina Gulyaeva. The strangest thing was yesterday - I climbed on an Internet, and Nibal sat under the table and sucked my dick, while I was in the porn site - I wanted something new again. I already once brought a prostitute, Nibal with the child in the room locked, but allowed to peep through the keyhole. Well, I go to some site, and there is a photo, a beautiful, tanned blonde, thin such, pretty, all in the skin, with a whip, and below it says "Mrs. Anna is looking for a slave." Looked at the pictures - well, really Azhar? Yes, do not understand. Her hair is lightened, her make-up is bright, and you don’t understand her skin - maybe she’s tanned. Long looked, asked his wife, they say, do you recognize my sister? She shook her shoulders, I don't know. It has long been. Already seven years have passed. Well, I think, to call her, what, order "Mrs." and make sure? Just what then? She already knows freedom, will not obey. Maybe she was already married, or maybe she lives alone. I don't know anything about her now. Did not call then. But I think it was her. I know that I hated my name, so I changed it for Anna. Sometimes, I still miss her, her cries and the curses that I don’t understand, her tears, burning eyes and that ragged ass. After all, I never found out how it is - to really fuck her in the ass. After all, the first time is not considered. Well, where are you, my rebellious? Your meek sister is also waiting for you ...

** HISTORY IS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE AND BASED PURE ON MY IMAGINATION **