My Private Iran Pt. 03

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Salam (Hello), it’s your girl, Shahnaz Tabrizi a.k.a. dokhtar dewane (Crazy girl), your eyes and ears into Tehran’s party and sex orgies underworld. This is my third instalment and takes place during the wild excesses that I was engaged in. To bring you up to speed, I now have a boyfriend who is Armenian Christian and his name is Alexan, but we are in an open relationship and so I still sleep around. Inter-ethnic and Interfaith relationships are not easy in Tehran. During the piece, I cheat on him (behind his back) once, but we both attend an orgy at a private home. I am arrested and thus the piece opens up with the interrogation and then I go back to the beginning. Enjoy.

“They’re dreadfully fond of beheading people here; the great wonder is, that there’s anyone left alive!” Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-glass.

Two women in black Chadors or singular black cloaks covering their shapeless body and hair, but with their faces revealed. I am sitting in a chair while they walk back and forth across the room. I look down at the floor of the police station. As the women walk they are insulting and humiliating me.

“You’re such a dirty girl, what you did was wrong. Have you no morals?” One says.

“Abnormal, you’re behaviour is not normal. You are sick and your desires are perverted, you are a pervert. A sexual deviate, where do you think you are? You think you can behave as you like? Did you not think of your family?” The other says.

“You are a bad girl, a slut and you corrupt the morals of our society.”

I stay quiet and cry. I start thinking back to a few days ago.

Few days ago,

Once upon a time in Iran, there was a queen who ruled over her palace with impunity, she never ventured out into the streets unless she had official business. She thought she was free to do as she pleased, but in reality, the palace was an opulent prison or a golden cage that kept her trapped within her walls. There are two masks the queen must wear, one public and the other private, she must not wear the wrong mask in the wrong place or the King would be angry. It’s understood that the streets belong to the King and the house the Queen. But what would astonish the queen is that other Iranian too, wears masks and the same two at that. They call it Taarof or social etiquette, everything is a performance and life is about rituals, Chutzpah would never make inroads in Persia.

In Iran everyone’s a storyteller and nuisance is vital to every story. Nobody says quite what they mean and working out meaning is detective work. It’s the Shia Religious holiday of Ashura in Iran, a day of ritual, symbolism and storytelling. Every act has its meaning. Wealthy families hire boys from religious studies seminars to come to their house and recite and read from Islamic holy texts and stories. Grandmothers settle their grandchildren around them and tell stories of the distant past with elegant princess and evil villains. On this day, single Iranian woman go to beauty parlours and get their hair and make-up done. For while the day is about mourning the passing of important Islamic religious figure, it’s also a day where boy meets girl.

Men parade themselves through the streets shirtless while carrying knives or chains and they whack themselves in ritualistic fashion. Woman with their latest clothes, stand on the side watching and smiling, in the hop they can pick up the right guy at the end of the procession. Many meet their future husbands at such processions. I stand in the crowd in my expensive designer clothing and loose hijab with sunglasses, watching the processions, in the hope of meeting a hunky guy for a quikie. The other day I learnt the term Nymphomaniac, I have an addictive personality and because sexual activities and non-sexual daily frustrations have been pushed underground in Iran, I’m unable to distinguish right from wrong or control my desires. Merely mask it. Sex is beautiful, it’s how I express my individuality and creativity, but this makes have a monogamous relationship difficult.

My sexuality is classed as a rebellion against the regime by some, but I, like others who do what I do, don’t really see that. We’ve gone way beyond politics, our lives have become meaningless and things have lost their value. The sense of greater loss to wider things has given way to personal power brought about by sexual exploits.

Standing here and a hot guy have caught my attention and I know I’m going to be a bad girl again. He’s whacking himself, trying to show off to the girls, with his large biceps and Greek-god like facial features. It’s amazing isn’t it, the true spiritual value of this day and commemoration is lost on me and others and has given haramidere escort away to personal need. But that’s enough reflection, time for some action.

I smile at his flirtatiously and give him a glance in the eye, he acknowledges and as soon as the procession is done, he approaches me.

“Salam, how are you? My my, what a fine day it is and the day grows finer still. I have nothing but the most honorable intensions towards you and if I may speak with you a moment.” He says.

I don’t feel like going through the chasing game today, I just want to get straight to the point.

“Hahhaaa..very tiring..have you come to chat trivialities? Because a girl like me has no time for small talk. But if you got a car than I may have something special and nice for you. What will it be?”

He seems taken aback, but turned on nonetheless and he quickly agrees and we head for his car. “My name is Ali,” he says.

“I don’t care for your name, only your ride.” I respond, “Let’s go deep into the Alboroz Mountains and take this further.”

We head up the mountain in his jeep, we get to a secluded spot and he stops the car and looks nervously at me. I have no time for romance or small talk, he’s not my boyfriend, so no mouth to mouth kissing. I also have no time for his hesitation, if he can’t man up than I will have to woman up and man-up for the both of us. He tries to talk, but I pay no attention, I undo my seat belt and lean my head in and go straight for his pants.

I pull on his belt and undid it, yanked it off and then undid the button on his pants and flies. I pulled his pants down and then his underwear in quick succession. He seems amazed and has frozen, but he urges me to be careful and slow down, which I ignore. His cock is trying to grow, but is struggling and I decided to speed the process up. I grab his cock and squeeze it hard and then start jerking it off.

I spit on his cock in rapid succession and aggressively rub the spit in, I’m like a woman possessed and I am not quite sure why? I spit and drool all over his cock, I leave nothing undrooled or unspat on. I also massage my saliva in too, which his cock seems even more responsive too. He has a shocked but aroused look on his face. I stick my tongue out and start licking his cock from head to base, much like the way you strip a wall of wall paper, this is what this looked like. I stuck his cock into my mouth and began sucking, slurping and biting away. I like to leave teeth marks as I go along; it’s my sexual calling card.

I have my mouth full of cock, I push him down my throat and a lump emerges in my throat. I encourage him to throat fuck, but he seems hesitant and so I have to use his cock and throat fuck myself. My mouth salivates and both my mouth and his penis becomes watery, his penis is getting harder. I am afraid he’s going to cum and so I spit him out. He’s not allowed to cum yet, he hasn’t given me the full range of pleasure!!

I pull down my jeans and jump onto his lap, I place his penis inside my pussy, I push pass my outer lips and deep into my inner sanctum. I jump up and down, riding him well. Up and down and up and down in repeated fashion. But as I am getting into it, he goes and cums. I feel my pussy filing up with liquid. Fucking typical, why can’t guys hold their own?

I jump of him and pull out wet wipes and clean my pussy of his cum. Frustrated with the lack of pleasure, I jump out of his car and sit down on part of the hill on the mountain. I start rubbing my pussy, openly masturbating, I am certainly breaking more than one taboo. I close my eyes and enter into a world of my own pleasure. I start thinking about other taboos, I’ve broken. I remember when I was 18 and I first exposed myself to a guy.

There was this guy called Hassan, he was 19 at the time. We had been hinting at each other for months and playfully flirting with one another. One day, I was at his house and we were alone and I went to use his bathroom to check my make-up. While in the bathroom, he walked in and stood behind me. I turned to face him and there was an awkward silence ensued and I broke the silence by saying, show me yours.

There was a brief pause and I didn’t know what he was thinking, then he finally said, I will show you mine if you show me yours. We got into a mini-argument about who should go first. In the end, we both agreed to drop and expose upon counting to 5. We both dropped upon reaching the number 5 and I was shocked we even did it. We stood their staring at each other’s parts, it was the first time I had ever seen a manhood and I didn’t know what to think or do. Finally, he ran over in a fit of passion and started kissing me and rubbing my ikitelli escort pussy, but he never penetrated me that day.

A very different time. I open my eyes and continue to rub myself and suddenly, I feel a sense of pleasure in on the horizon. I feel my pussy leaking and I start thinking about every intercourse I’ve ever had. Then it happens, I cum and cum heavily. Once I am done, I clean myself off. The car guy looks flabbergasted and keeps lamenting how crazy I am. But we head back to North Tehran and I get out his car and head home.

The next few days, I minimise contact with people. I go into personal retreat. After a few days I start talking to Alexan again, I have cheated on him and not sure it was worth it. But I do not tell him anything, he’s too excited about an orgy, we are both going to attend. It’s at this moment that I should have stopped and thought, but I did not.

Friday night comes and in my leather leggings, high heels and white top, I head out of my palace and into the arms of my man. We embrace for a brief moment; Alexan is very excited and cannot stop talking. I pretend to listen and even throw a flattery smile at him from time to time, but I can’t help but feel I’ve been here so many times before. But the good thing is, I get to embrace my bisexuality tonight. So there is some cause for excitement.

We reach the house party, with David Guetta blasting out from the speakers, bootleg alcohol being consumed. Girls all in revealing outfits, some are wearing dresses and cocktail dresses, some short skirts, some in tight jeans and some even in latex outfits. In the middle of the kitchen there’s an inflatable child’s paddling pool, full of alcohol and one guy is lying in it. Two girls are in the pool with him and when they are not licking his bare chest, they are kissing one another while he jerks off. Amazing still, girls with plastic cups who are not in the pool, stick their cups into the pool and fill it up and drink. This is a fairytale, a Persian Fantasia or the Islamic Republic of Iran as we call it.

You see what outsiders don’t get is that the Islamic Republic is not an Islamic State, it’s a state that wishes to ascend towards being Islamic. Islam is an ideal to be reached, but not yet achieved and you look around at this party and you see this dream moving further away. It’s become a Republic of Hedonism. This is not rebellion against repression, most people here are not that political and many of them vote in elections. There is something else, this is something else. Looking around this party, you see much of Tehran’s elite; these are the children of those who hold power.

I move slowly through the kitchen and at the opposite end, someone has made a cardboard wall with a hole in it. A group of girls line up on one side of the all and a group of men at the other side, the men take it in turns to stick their cock through and the women in turns to suck. They have turned it into a game and at the end, they have to guess who sucked who.

Me and Alexan head into the living room. There’s wall to wall cock sticking out and groups of girls sucking, playing or fucking it. The smell of cum is thick and potent. There are also girls screwing each other, you see some licking each other out and others using objects on each other. Your mind has trouble processing it all, it’s just an orgy of hyper-stimulation and the visuals from the evening will never leave me.

I take a seat on the couch and Alexans starts talking to his light-olive skinned girl dressed in latex. He then walks over to me and sits down next to me and whispers into my ear. “This is Asel, she’s here on vacation. She an Iranian girl who lives in America and guess what? She works as a stripper in America and I’ve asked her to give us and more importantly you a show.”

The inner lesbian within me beings to race with excitement, she walks over to me and introduces herself. Before I know it she starts dancing around me, she sits in my lap, places her arms around me and dances. I am getting a lap dance from a very sexy girl.

She blows kisses at me from time to time. She leans in and places her head on my shoulders and teases my cheeks with her finger. She kisses me on the cheeks and then on the lips. Our tongues exchange mouths and salivate one another’s, we become fierier and more passionate. We are literally eating each other’s faces off. Exchanging mouthful fluids is intensely erotic and gives me a warm glowy feeling as I ingest her oral fluids. What else of hers will I ingest, I wonder?

I start licking her latex outfit and make a lot of noise as I do. Alexan yanks out his cock and Asel moves down and starts sucking his cock, this seems a bit istanbul escort unfair to interrupt my pleasure like this. But another walking cock comes towards me and I waste no time. I insert his penis into my mouth and begin sucking him off hard. I am wary of other pieces of cock moving towards me from different directions and I want to get through as many as possible. Sucking one and rubbing another two off at the same time, that how I roll.

I must have slurp on five different cocks, when Asel moves away from Alexans cock and back up towards me. I stop sucking and stare into Asel’s eyes, we then start kissing and tonguing one another and this time we have more fluids to exchange. White cream, thick fluid and very warm, I learn what my boyfriend tastes like when mixed with a strippers saliva and she learns what five different cocks in my mouth taste like. It’s a learning curve and a very important one at that.

She starts kissing down my body, until she reaches my crotch area, she pulls down my leggings with my teeth and then my panties. Exposed my pussy is oxygenating, the feeling of fresh air brushing against it, Asel goes in and breathes heavily next to it. Her hot breath, which is thick with cum is a revelation to my pussy. She extends her tongue and makes contact with my outer lips, which she gently and skilfully teases and when this is done right, I become moist very quickly.

She starts to lick away and gradually penetrates inwards, which arouses me greatly. While she’s doing that, guys begin to jerk off near my face and they take it in turns to squirt onto my face. My face with its hot loads on it, attracts other females, who move in and start licking my face clean. Nothing gets wasted at this gathering. These girls’ don’t even ask for permission, it just out with their tongues. While Asel is licking me off, a guy stands behind her and pulls down her skirt and panties and inserts his cock into her anus. He begins fucking, rocking back and forth, but Asel takes it in her stride and doesn’t get too distracted from the task at hand.

She stops every few moments to groan, but then goes back in. Some of my pussy juice ends up on her face and she has a little white tash across her upper lip. She even burps a few times, which shows how much she is absorbing. She even smells like me now too.

A line of men form behind Asel and they take her in turns, some opt for her pussy and others her anus. She takes a real pounding, big balls clipping her butt cheeks and going red, but she continues as if nothing is happening. She is becoming cum infested, I’m surprised her ears and nose have started to leak cum or her eyes watering cum out. I produce some cum, which she takes and then she pushes the men off her and sits in my lap and tries to rub her clit up against mine. The cum in her pussy gets wiped onto mine.

The clit rub is intense and after a long, but sensational rub, we stop and she gets off my lap and I get off the couch. She then takes a seat and I go down on her, I lick the cum out of her pussy, while a new line of men form behind me and they begin pounding both my holes.

My holes are hot and go red, I’m sweaty profusely. But I cannot stop and I keep going, I not only lick her pussy, but her ass too. My addictiveness really comes out. So many guys came inside me and on me that I’ve lost count.

But it was at this moment, that things took a negative turn. There was a knock at the door, I didn’t really take much notice and continued to lick. Suddenly, a group of armed men stormed the house and people began crying out, it’s the Basij (semi-state militia) and they began hitting and restraining everyone. I continued to lick away and refused to look up, the Basiji guys pointed their guns at me and told me to stop. They screamed I am a dirty fucking whore, what did I think I was doing, but I ignored them. One of the Basijis grabbed me and they pulled me off and as they did they saw my mouth covered in cum. They kicked me and called me dirty and ordered me to wipe my mouth clean.

I was detained and taken down the police station and charged with indecent and immoral acts. I was held for a few days, before my parents got me out, but they now knew the truth and my life became difficult. My father refused to speak to me and my mother wouldn’t look at me. The dream is over and the nightmare has begun.

A few weeks later, I arranged to leave Iran to Turkey and avoided imprisonment. But sitting here in exile, I realize now how wrong I had been. Iran’s air is sacred and I will never breath it again, long live Iran. I now spend my days building both a spiritual connection to Iran and a new life abroad. But my last images of Iran will haunt me forever, when I illegally crossed the mountains into Turkey, I looked back and saw the light coming up over Iran. The landscape light up and Iran looked mystical and majestic, like a promised land. A promised land, whose promise I didn’t appreciate until now and now I am forced to wonder in exile. A wandering Iranian with no fixed abode, that’s my fate.

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