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The Gentle Mufti

Worry not my child, for thou service shalt be rewarded well. Up, keep the good work up, and twerk, for thou shalt please thy religiously elders. Worry not my child, for tis’ is not any serpent.

“Worry not, for Allah the Exalted has ordained us to the post as such with His orders to be gentle on the people. So are we, and so am I, gentle to my “tip” to thy “core”, for me it is not but Allah’s will, for thou to be caressed by my behavior this great.

Come, pal, sit. And don’t tighten thy body. This is amongst the finest pieces of advice I’ve ever received. O’ my child, it reminds me of my inglorious past. I remember my beautiful childhood when my holy mentors used to explode their monstrous satisfactions unto me. So honored was I to serve them and to serve Allah, ditto the way thou are serving Allah and serving me. So, tighten not thy gut my child, as it will cause harm to the delicate muscles of thee.

O’ you child of mine, thou blossom of thy youth, the pleasure of all the pleasures, O’ the sweet child of mine, tighten not thy muscles and let those soft organic loaves not become a hindering stiffness while them beautiful buttocks of yours giving a chance for an 80 years gentle Mufti praising his Allah’s creations.

O’ my love, my damsel no more
O’ my love, with a bottom so sour
move up and down and to and fro
shake that thang and give it a blow
slow my son
slow, slow
Oh! Ah! Ah! Oh!

My darling! this service of thee, it will move and jolt them protectors of paradise and hell, and will force them to praise thou servitude in Allah’s path. Thy sins will be rinsed away in same way thou cleansing my thong. So gentle are thee, so blessed thou are. Move my child, Allah help thee maintaining thy rhythm.

Worry not my son, for I am nothing but a gentle mufti. My heart stiffens not, well, at least not at the moment, for stiffness has found it’s course, off course, in this intercourse. My old face keeps showering loving smile straight from my heart unto thee – actually somewhat below the heart, say navel, or as a matter of fact, a little beneath the navel, yeah right from there. Though shalt not be afraid of my. Though shalt continue while I reed this book so holy, but thou shalt not stop being slowly.

Worry not my child, for thou service shalt be rewarded well. Up, keep the good work up, and twerk, for thou shalt please thy religiously elders. Worry not my child, for tis’ is not any serpent. Please me well and be thou pleased, serve me first get thyself served. Yearn not son, we shall meet. Thou shall seat upon my feat. Thou shalt be granted all tis’ fun and we shalt churn turn by turn.

Worry not my child, for serving me equates to serve religion. Now think not anymore, for thou have a lecture next on modesty, and I shalt have it prepared. Blow it my child, and worry not, for I’m nothing but a humble and gentle mufti.”

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