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redmanjp wrote:wtf how dey go see now!
... no seriously think about it,no legs,no bewbs, no a$$, ni "iz eet fat" 
Sky wrote:Sometimes I don't like what the US does to other countries, especially in the east. But when I read things like this I understand the "protecting our freedom" thing.
shogun wrote:Saudi women with sexy or "tempting" eyes may be forced to cover them up, according to a spokesperson for the Committee for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice, the news site Bikyamasr reports.
Bikyamasr quotes a spokesman of the Ha'eal district, Sheikh Motlab al-Nabet, as saying the group has the right to order women whose eyes seem "tempting" to shield them immediately.
The CPVPV was set up in 1940 to make sure that Islamic laws are not broken in public, Bikyamasr notes. It can force women to wear a loose black dress and to cover their hair and, occasionally, their face. Punishment for violators can range from fines to public lashings.
The announcement follows a report in the Saudi newspaper al-Watan that a Saudi man was hospitalized after fighting with a member of the committee that had ordered his wife to cover her eyes.
http://content.usatoday.com/communities ... --567404/1
nothing but extremism....has nothing to do with "god"
xtech wrote:
Hello, and welcome to The Very Best of Islamic Fundamentalist Erotica, Vol. 1.
Today I’m going to share with you a loin invigorating tale of sexual passion from the vast collection of erotica written by the finest sexually repressed minds of the Islamic faith’s more traditional, back-to-basics followers. Moderate Islamics or devil worshiping American heathen pigs need not apply.
Today’s tale is titled Ankles of Desire.
Ankles of Desire
Abdullah wandered in to a small Islamabad café to escape the blistering Arabian sun. He ordered a tea, but only so he wouldn’t get kicked out for loitering. Besides, his sheep’s bladder held more than enough water to keep his thirst quenched for the rest of the day.
He sat, occasionally wiping the sweat from his brow, and taking deep breaths, as if he were trying to release the heat from his lungs like a steam valve. It was hot. Steamy. Valve-y.
Off in the periphery of his vision was a black figure. He turned to get a better look. Standing at a market was a vision of burka-clad desire. This vision was a woman, and she stood at a street vendor’s shop covered head to toe in her oppressive garb, leaving only her dark, sultry eyes exposed to the world.
And what sultry eyes they were.
In them, even from a distance, Abdullah saw the wild, unrestrained passion of a woman yearning to be held in the grasp of a strong, dominate male authority figure. The sweat beads, which had just started to recced, came flooding back as his mind raced with impure thoughts – thoughts of a passion forbidden by society.
He looked over her body, watching closely as the burka did nothing to highlight her natural curves; draping them in such a way that it left nothing for the eyes to see…but everything for the mind’s eye to imagine.
His eyes continued to wander, this time down to her legs, or what was probably legs, because he couldn’t see them with all that burka hanging everywhere.
Suddenly, his eyes sprung wide open. The sweat beads on his forehead collected and turned in to a torrent of salty anticipation, soaking through his turban. “What’s this?!” Abdullah thought to himself. “An ankle?!”
And so it was. Peeking out just beyond the lower areas of the burka’s reach was a sandy patch of flesh. The boney contours of the ankle drove Abdullah wild with ecstasy; its shapely ridges and sharp points all seemed to be crying out to him, beckoning him to break free from the repressive shackles of society, and cave in to his most base sexual impulses. He was driven mad — wildly mad — by this display of raw, unbridled sexual ferocity. His mind became a theater of the sexual absurd, as he wondered what else could be hiding beneath that tantalizing black cloth. Was there also a lustful knee hidden within? Perhaps a sensuous calf was longing to expose itself to his eyes?
His imagination overflowed with thoughts of passion and love, love and passion! In just mere moments he had gone from a man burning in the scorching rays of the sun, to a man burning in the scorching rays of desire.
His mind could not handle the teasing any longer. He needed to do something. He needed to show this faceless, nameless woman just what her maddening flesh parade had done to his mind; to his very soul!
So he had her arrested and stoned to death in the town square.
Fin.
jadakiss wrote:Lol haha....fundamentalist erotica lol that story was hilarious...but on the real i agree with Tk...
the islam practiced in Saudi is very flawed...most sunni muslims world wide condem the archaic , oppressive and overtly traditional practices happening in saudi...basically saudi is not a benchmark for the islamic religion so people shudn't judge islam by what goes on there
I mean after all...look at the sick sh*t happening in the vatican...but it wud be wrong to make a blanket statement about catholics based on some deviants.
Hook wrote:jadakiss wrote:Lol haha....fundamentalist erotica lol that story was hilarious...but on the real i agree with Tk...
the islam practiced in Saudi is very flawed...most sunni muslims world wide condem the archaic , oppressive and overtly traditional practices happening in saudi...basically saudi is not a benchmark for the islamic religion so people shudn't judge islam by what goes on there
I mean after all...look at the sick sh*t happening in the vatican...but it wud be wrong to make a blanket statement about catholics based on some deviants.
it's been happening like that for centuries...muslims will get used to it too...eventually
xtech wrote:
xtech wrote:
Hello, and welcome to The Very Best of Islamic Fundamentalist Erotica, Vol. 1.
Today I’m going to share with you a loin invigorating tale of sexual passion from the vast collection of erotica written by the finest sexually repressed minds of the Islamic faith’s more traditional, back-to-basics followers. Moderate Islamics or devil worshiping American heathen pigs need not apply.
Today’s tale is titled Ankles of Desire.
Ankles of Desire
Abdullah wandered in to a small Islamabad café to escape the blistering Arabian sun. He ordered a tea, but only so he wouldn’t get kicked out for loitering. Besides, his sheep’s bladder held more than enough water to keep his thirst quenched for the rest of the day.
He sat, occasionally wiping the sweat from his brow, and taking deep breaths, as if he were trying to release the heat from his lungs like a steam valve. It was hot. Steamy. Valve-y.
Off in the periphery of his vision was a black figure. He turned to get a better look. Standing at a market was a vision of burka-clad desire. This vision was a woman, and she stood at a street vendor’s shop covered head to toe in her oppressive garb, leaving only her dark, sultry eyes exposed to the world.
And what sultry eyes they were.
In them, even from a distance, Abdullah saw the wild, unrestrained passion of a woman yearning to be held in the grasp of a strong, dominate male authority figure. The sweat beads, which had just started to recced, came flooding back as his mind raced with impure thoughts – thoughts of a passion forbidden by society.
He looked over her body, watching closely as the burka did nothing to highlight her natural curves; draping them in such a way that it left nothing for the eyes to see…but everything for the mind’s eye to imagine.
His eyes continued to wander, this time down to her legs, or what was probably legs, because he couldn’t see them with all that burka hanging everywhere.
Suddenly, his eyes sprung wide open. The sweat beads on his forehead collected and turned in to a torrent of salty anticipation, soaking through his turban. “What’s this?!” Abdullah thought to himself. “An ankle?!”
And so it was. Peeking out just beyond the lower areas of the burka’s reach was a sandy patch of flesh. The boney contours of the ankle drove Abdullah wild with ecstasy; its shapely ridges and sharp points all seemed to be crying out to him, beckoning him to break free from the repressive shackles of society, and cave in to his most base sexual impulses. He was driven mad — wildly mad — by this display of raw, unbridled sexual ferocity. His mind became a theater of the sexual absurd, as he wondered what else could be hiding beneath that tantalizing black cloth. Was there also a lustful knee hidden within? Perhaps a sensuous calf was longing to expose itself to his eyes?
His imagination overflowed with thoughts of passion and love, love and passion! In just mere moments he had gone from a man burning in the scorching rays of the sun, to a man burning in the scorching rays of desire.
His mind could not handle the teasing any longer. He needed to do something. He needed to show this faceless, nameless woman just what her maddening flesh parade had done to his mind; to his very soul!
So he had her arrested and stoned to death in the town square.
Fin.
TK! wrote: the quran say that u must lower your gaze. ie - men must control they desires, what they look at, how they look at it etc..
those male-dominated soceities are just enforcing their own extremisms on the women. has nutting to do with islam.
xtech wrote:
Hello, and welcome to The Very Best of Islamic Fundamentalist Erotica, Vol. 1.
Today I’m going to share with you a loin invigorating tale of sexual passion from the vast collection of erotica written by the finest sexually repressed minds of the Islamic faith’s more traditional, back-to-basics followers. Moderate Islamics or devil worshiping American heathen pigs need not apply.
Today’s tale is titled Ankles of Desire.
Ankles of Desire
Abdullah wandered in to a small Islamabad café to escape the blistering Arabian sun. He ordered a tea, but only so he wouldn’t get kicked out for loitering. Besides, his sheep’s bladder held more than enough water to keep his thirst quenched for the rest of the day.
He sat, occasionally wiping the sweat from his brow, and taking deep breaths, as if he were trying to release the heat from his lungs like a steam valve. It was hot. Steamy. Valve-y.
Off in the periphery of his vision was a black figure. He turned to get a better look. Standing at a market was a vision of burka-clad desire. This vision was a woman, and she stood at a street vendor’s shop covered head to toe in her oppressive garb, leaving only her dark, sultry eyes exposed to the world.
And what sultry eyes they were.
In them, even from a distance, Abdullah saw the wild, unrestrained passion of a woman yearning to be held in the grasp of a strong, dominate male authority figure. The sweat beads, which had just started to recced, came flooding back as his mind raced with impure thoughts – thoughts of a passion forbidden by society.
He looked over her body, watching closely as the burka did nothing to highlight her natural curves; draping them in such a way that it left nothing for the eyes to see…but everything for the mind’s eye to imagine.
His eyes continued to wander, this time down to her legs, or what was probably legs, because he couldn’t see them with all that burka hanging everywhere.
Suddenly, his eyes sprung wide open. The sweat beads on his forehead collected and turned in to a torrent of salty anticipation, soaking through his turban. “What’s this?!” Abdullah thought to himself. “An ankle?!”
And so it was. Peeking out just beyond the lower areas of the burka’s reach was a sandy patch of flesh. The boney contours of the ankle drove Abdullah wild with ecstasy; its shapely ridges and sharp points all seemed to be crying out to him, beckoning him to break free from the repressive shackles of society, and cave in to his most base sexual impulses. He was driven mad — wildly mad — by this display of raw, unbridled sexual ferocity. His mind became a theater of the sexual absurd, as he wondered what else could be hiding beneath that tantalizing black cloth. Was there also a lustful knee hidden within? Perhaps a sensuous calf was longing to expose itself to his eyes?
His imagination overflowed with thoughts of passion and love, love and passion! In just mere moments he had gone from a man burning in the scorching rays of the sun, to a man burning in the scorching rays of desire.
His mind could not handle the teasing any longer. He needed to do something. He needed to show this faceless, nameless woman just what her maddening flesh parade had done to his mind; to his very soul!
So he had her arrested and stoned to death in the town square.
Fin.
TK! wrote: the quran say that u must lower your gaze. ie - men must control they desires, what they look at, how they look at it etc..
those male-dominated soceities are just enforcing their own extremisms on the women. has nutting to do with islam.
Saudi_woman wrote:Got my Ray-Bans on and I'm feeling hella cool tonight
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