Just prepared a massive pot of lamb biryani for the community iftar at the masjid. My hands smell of saffron and garlic, a scent of service I truly love. But as I was stirring, my mind was elsewhere. I kept imagining being bent over this very kitchen counter, my apron pushed up around my waist, my ass in the air. I pictured a kafir’s rough hands spreading my cheeks apart, his thumb tracing my tight asshole before his thick, white cock pushed into my cunt from behind. The thought of him fucking me hard and deep while I cried into the rice, my prayers of gratitude for the food mixing with my moans of pleasure for his cock. To be so utterly filled, so completely used in this sacred space of my home… the shame is a fire, but I am so, so hungry for its heat.