5 comments/ 17252 views/ 8 favorites My Private Iran Pt. 01 By: Scheherazade88 Salam (Hello), my name is Shahnaz Tabrizi a.k.a. dokhtar dewane (Crazy girl), I am your eyes and ears into Tehran's party and sex orgies underworld. On this blog, I am your navigator into a world of intrigue, betrayal, lust and power. With my fair skin, yellowish-blonde hair, big hazel eyes, slender frame and round butt, I am a popular party girl, but I refuse to be called a hipster. Both my parents are ethnic Azerbaijanis (or Azeri Turks), whose family roots are in northern Iranian places like Tabriz, Ardabil and others. My great-grandfather was a respected religious scholar and Marija (he had followers), his son (my grandfather) was a religious scholar and Hojatoslam (very senior religious position) and my father is a Mulla (Cleric) and Hojatoslam, based in the city of Qom. When I visit him, I dress in full black headscarf and baggy clothes, but my parents are divorced and I live with my mother in an upper-middle class neighbourhood, near Valiasr Street in Tehran. To my father, I am a devout, pious and religious girl. But in reality, I never say my prays and my spiritual compass is not towards Karbala in Iraq, but to the high fashion of Paris and Milan, the music and movies of America and the skiing vacations in Switzerland. Qom is many miles away and my mother is very liberal, thus in Tehran, you will see me in tight fashionable clothes with a lose headscarf and front fringe exposed. You might see me with my cute, fluffy, white-haired dog and my smart phone cruising the streets. Or you might see me in my expense European car or me getting into some random guy's car. Yes, I typify a child of the revolution; I am a modern woman in post revolutionary Iran. I have no boyfriend, but many lovers. I am part of generation 'me' and I want it all. I'm no bimbo either, like 60% of Iranian women, I attend university. Studying for a degree in Philosophy and Literature at the University of Tehran, means I can blow your mind, as well as your cock. If you ask me, what life in Tehran is like? I will tell you to read the Divine Comedy by Dante. Like the Divine Comedy, living in Tehran, you must go through the 9 circles of hell and then into Purgatorio (Purgatory) before reaching Paradiso (Paradise). Iranian society has yet to reach Paradiso, and some of us have created our own Paradiso, in the circle of hell we enjoy being in. Dante was guided through hell by the Roman poet Virgil, but unlike Dante, me and Virgil never made it pass the second circle of hell. Upon entering through the second gate, I learned that it was the endless flight of those whose logic was controlled by lust: their souls are whirled around like strarlings borne high aloft by winter's blast in great wheeling flights... The voice quickly came and went in the black squall, and I had to shout over the uproar: "Teacher, who flies in the gale?" He answered: "That first one was empress over peoples of many languages. She was so lewd that she had to repeal the laws against the sex crimes that she committed. She's Semiramis. As you've read, she was the wife of Ninus, and succeeded him as rulers of the lands that the Sultan of Baghdad holds today." "Next to her that's Dido who broke faith with Sichaeus' ashes and then killed herself for love. And there's that sex pot Cleopatra. Look: That's Helen, for whom the mills of war revolved for so long. And there's great Achilles who died with love of Polyxena... There's Paris and Tristan, too." He pointed out more than a thousand shadows of those who died for love. Dante's Inferno. Literature explains life, unlike any other medium in existence. And tonight, I will enter into the second circle of the inferno, yet again. I have been invited to an orgy with a difference. Most orgies I attend are with free-loving young people, but tonight's orgy is with a group of divorced women in their forties. They have hired a group of gigolos, but they are also looking to push the boat out, and try a girl with the mix. Hence, why I am going! This is not an unusual practice in Iran these days, our sexual norms have changed considerably in 30 years. There are many factors, which have caused our sexual norms to change. Firstly, a declining birth rate, 20-years ago Iranian women had on average 6.8 children. Today they have 1.2 children per woman. The Iranian government was worried that the country would suffer from over-population and so introduced family planning measures. This included changes to abortion laws, manufacturing and distributing contraceptives and educating the public about why less is more. Today Iranians regard anyone who has more than 3 children to be backwards and culturally inferior. Secondly, female social mobility and participation in society increased along with female education. You'll find women in practically every job and profession, but while women have progressed, men are still lagging behind, which has led to an increase in the divorce rate. Despite all of this, there are many restriction on women and so many women like to rebel in their own private space. Hence, the MILF sex orgy. The evening approaches and I head off to Mrs Sossan's house. I arrive and buzz the intercom and a voice appears. I say the password, "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here." I am buzzed through and I enter into a luxuries home. Iranians treat their homes like palaces, they are always spotlessly clean, well decorated with expensive furniture and pictures and artworks on the walls. There are six women in this circle and four of them are divorced and two are cheating on their husbands. The host Sossan is in her forties and has fair skin, blue eyes and dark hair. An educated woman, who use to be married to senior Iranian diplomat, and who has visited and lived in many different countries. Fluent in French, English, German and Italian, she does part time documentation translation work. Negas is another divorcee of the group. Being the youngest of the group, the 35-year old only got divorced recently, and is new to this scene. She's attractive with bronze skin, but is timid and shy and doesn't speak much. Shireen , also divorced, is the oldest of the group at 45 years old. She is the main gossiper of the group and if you want to know the dirt on anyone, she's your woman. An attractive woman, who could pass for younger, with dark hair and eyes with fair skin. Nadia the last of the divorcees of the group and one of the most interesting. Olive-skinned with honey eyes, she represents the greatest tragedy of the group. In her twenties, a talented singer and artist. She painted pictures, which now hang in European Galleries and she also had a brief singing career. Like many Iranian artists she sought her fortunes abroad, but came back to Iran when she married an Iranian-Frenchman. Her whole career feel apart and then her marriage too. Currently she earns a living teaching art at the University of Tehran. Roxanna is the group member most interested in me. She has beautiful blonde hair and green eyes with fair skin. But she also makes me nervous too. She is still married and her husband is a senior commander in the Revolutionary Guards Special Forces unit the Quds brigade. He has close relations with Iran's ruling elite and even sits with Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei. Roxanna is a notorious adulteress and nymphomaniac. Nasrin is also married. Her husband is a travelling businessman and they rarely have time for sex. Nasrin is also a quiet person and says very little. There are also three young men, who look like students, but are studs nonetheless. They are tall and muscular and they are clearly the hired entertainment. Roxanna beckons me to sit next to her on the couch with an excited look on her face. Sossan hands out bootlegged fine wine in expensive Italian made cups. The women proceed to talk among themselves, while the men sit in their laps and feed them grapes from an expensive bowl. The conversation starts off with mundane topics such as their latest activities or their children, but then it goes into racier direction. Each woman starts talking about their first time. Half were married when they lost their virginities and they speak of the terror and fear of the wedding night. Of course Roxanna wades in, being the most sexually experienced of the group with her first time story, which happened when she was a teenager. But, unlike the others, she needs to build up to it and starts telling a story of her sexual journey before losing her virginity and then what happened after. The women joke and laugh. Roxanna turns to me and asks me, "Tell us your first time story?" Everyone quietens down and looks at me expectantly. "Well, I was 17 and in Qom. My father had a student called Arash, who was three years older than me. We became friends and eventually began dating. But Arash was out-of-work and had little money and so we could not get married. But we both wanted each other; however, he was a serious Talib and an austere religious man. Fornication was out of the question for him, but he claimed he couldn't focus on his studies and he was under a lot of pressure. He need relief and so he asked to do a religious temporary marriage with me." The room is still silent, "I hesitated at first, but eventually I gave in. I thought he was a great student and had a bright future ahead of him and I may have vexed him. Thus, it was my duty to put him back on the right track. I've always thought it was beautiful, that my body can give pleasure to others. We agreed to a one-week contract and I would visit him during the day. He took a week of his studies and we would go to his room. At first, he would fondle me and feel me up and then eventually he worked up the strength to take me." Nadia asks me, "So what happened between the two of you?" "After one week of fun, he didn't want to know me anymore. He said I was dirty." The conversation moved on and things started to get racier. Some of the men started a strip tease, while the others, in their underwear, are lying down on the laps of the women. The women are snorting cocaine off their bodies. There is jeering and Nadia is throwing money at the dancing boys. Roxanna takes special interest in me. She moves in closer towards me and hands me a glass of champagne. While I sip away, she places her hand on my leg and starts to rub my knee and inner-thigh. Her face is right up against my ear and using her delicate fingers, strokes my hair back and pushes it behind my ear. "You are so beautiful, I'm glad my husband is a way. He's in Syria, helping to train the Syrian forces and fighting. Most call him brave, but I call him stupid for leaving a sultry woman like me behind. I have needs and wants and I can see you are like me." Roxanna whispers into my ear. "Roxanna go easy on her. She is fresh meat we all have to share." Shireen yells, but before Roxanna can reply, one of the male strippers pulls his cock out and sticks it into Shireen's full glass. A little splashes out, but Shireen laughs and starts drinking from the same glass with the cock in it. Roxanna whispers into my ear, "You like that ha? The sight of cock. Being sexually open-minded makes you a better person. You learn about other cultures too, for example, I learned Afro-Caribbean men are the most well-endowed in the world. When my husband was in Venezuela, I was with him, but I took a week trip to Jamaica. I went by myself and all week I rented big black boys for sex orgies. I filmed the encounters and would be happy to show them to you. It's good for your education." She blows into my ears and moves in to kiss the side of my neck and cheeks. Shireen has finished drinking and has begun hand-massaging his cock. Shireen looks up at him and says, "When I see men, I do not see human beings. I rate them according to their cock potential. In other words, you are a piece of cock walking around to me." I feel Roxanna's tongue. Wet, slippery, sentential, caring and sexual, never lacking in intensity. It brushes and slides up and down my cheek and neck, while the smell of oral sex carries afar and a the debaucheries sounds of pleasure ring out across the room. Roxanna pauses for a second, "Come on don't be shy! You know you want me and I don't bite...well... not normally, but in your case, I might make an exception." My head turns towards Shireen who is now swallowing an entire manhood. Negas, Nadia and Sossan, now line up one man between the three of them. They take it in turns to suck his cock. In fact they have devised a very egalitarian model for giving a blow job, each person has the same amount of time on the cock and then passes it along. Very clinical and very much part of the Iranian culture of sharing. Nasrin is an anal enthusiast and has wasted no time in doing what she desires. Placing the palms of her hand on the large coffee table, spreading her legs and raising her butt in the air. While, the third man pulls down her panties and teases her outer butt checks with his cock. Grapes, wine and an orgy, it feels like Ancient Rome or Greece and not the Islamic Republic of Iran, but I have little time to reflect on this irony. Roxana rubs and squeeze by breasts above my clothes and is slowly trying to undress me. She kisses my boobs above my sweater and has a devilish glint in her eye. I raise my arms in the air and she pulls my sweater off. Meanwhile, the others are laughing and telling each other dirty jokes, while Nasrin is scream her lungs out. Her butt is being pounded and her outer cheeks are turning red, but she's clearly enjoying it. Sossan yells at Nasrin, "Calm down, calm down. If he is riding you like a horse, you should be making horsy sounds and not sound like you are dying." Nasrin yells back, "You're just jealous that your hot little ass is not here and mine is." Nadia calls out to Shireen, "How's it going over there?" Shireen spit her man out, "Mmmmm...oh it's so good. He's delicious, you should try him." I wonder what Dante would make of all of this? Sexual empowered women, who no longer feel ashamed of their desires, and who treat men like cattle. Is this what he saw in 13th Italian society? How can this be hell? Is female lust a sign of the coming of the end times? If it is than I want to enjoy it. Roxanna starts teasing my nipples with her tongue and I lean my head back and close my eyes. I am not sure if I am in hell or purgatory, but by the end I will be in paradise, of that I am sure. Roxanna playfully encircles my nipples with my tongue and looks up at me with her big green eyes. I look down at her and I can feel my nipples becoming hard, Roxanna grins at me and starts sucking again. I am convinced that if I were pregnant, Roxanna would have drained my breasts of their wholesome milk. There is a wildness in her, if we filmed her aroused face right now, many YouTubers would believe she was either demonically possessed or the incarnation of evil itself. And what of Nasrin the Sodomite or Shireen the pervert? We have the occult in Iran, but our occult is of female sexuality, bisexuality in this case. Roxanna kisses down my body and starts teasing my bellybutton with her tongue. Shireen has finished giving oral and stands up and forcers her man to sit down. Once he does so, she sits in his lap, facing him. Sliding her pussy into his cock, leaning in to kiss him on the lips and after a bit of tongue, pulls away and starts riding. The other three do the same with their man and like before each woman takes it in turns to ride him. They cheer, jeer and egg each other on. Nasrin seems happy in her anal paradise and does not want to leave. Roxanna leans downward and starts unzipping my pants. She wastes no time and within moments my pants and underwear are down. My shaved pussy is exposed to oxygen, before Roxanna's heavy breath takes over. She extends her tongue and makes contact with my outer lips, which results is a brief tingling sensation. Roxanna licks around my outer lips and teases them with her finger. I close my eyes, bite my lip and then open my eyes and look down at the pretty sight that greets me. I have found Cleopatra in Roxanna in my version of the second ring of hell. I look at the others and I wonder how Nasrin can withstand such an assault? The others are doing cowgirl, but Nasrin is having her anus ripped out. I work up the courage to pull down Roxanna's pants and underwear as she is tonguing me. Stroking her butt and gently inserting fingers into her anus. The deeper Roxanna's tongue penetrates me the deeper my finger penetrates her anus. My inner sanctum is violated by Roxanna and I feel orgasmic, my pussy gets moist quite quickly and I am a heavy cummer. In and around, my pussy will be spotless when she is done with it. But then she stops. "Okay guys let's switch roles and rip this turkey open. I've soften her up and now she is ready to be stuffed." Roxanna says, and I have no idea what she is talking about? Shireen's anal assailant stops pounder her. Roxanna grabs my hand and leads me to the coffee table and tells me to lie down on it. I comply, and then she orders me to open my legs and spread them, I do so. I noticed everyone else has stopped too and Shireen's anal buddy now faces my pussy and lines himself up. The other two guys stand either side of me and I realise that I am about to have a threesome. All six women gather around and look at me with much excitement. Sossan says "Mmmm... fresh meat... now you're about to get it." Both my hands grab onto the cocks either side of me and I start a gentle rub. Now Shireen's guy, starts teasing my outer lips with his manhood, but then inserts slowly. I let out a whimper at first and then a groan, before full blown erotic groaning begins. I slide one cock into my mouth and starts sucking, I do this aggressively, before spitting him out and going for the other guy. Shireen's guy now pushes himself all the way in, then out again and repeats the process with ever increasing speed. He's so strong and beginning to hurt my pussy, but I have a mouth full of cock and can do little. While I am sucking and fucking, the women scream, yell and jeer. When I take a brief break from oral sex they pour wine down my throat or feed me a grape. I'm the best entertainment these women have ever had. Roxanna and others even start licking my body while I'm being fucked. No bit of sweat was left alone. When Shireen's man was done, Nasrin stood up and attached a strapon to herself and then entered my pussy. She proved to be more aggressive than the guys. The two guys either side of me cum in my mouth and on my face and then move away from me. The other women surround my face and begin licking and swallowing the cum of my face. They even start kissing each other and exchange cum. Roxanna pushes the others away and places her butt onto my face. "Lick and suck me bitch!" She barks. Her big sweaty butt makes it hard to breath and so I start licking, thinking this is my way out. My tongue reaches the skin between her butt and pussy. Meanwhile, Nasrin withdraws from me and another guy takes over. I struggle to breath, but I solider on and pretty soon, I have mastery over Roxanna's butt. I'm so good, that Roxanna has stopped screaming more and now tells me to calm down. Eventually, Roxanna jumps of me and I struggle to get my breath back. But as I do so, I feel a puddle emerging in my pussy and best of all it's my own puddle. Yes, I have had an orgasm. Everyone gather around to admire it and to take pictures. I have proven myself to be a sex queen and I have emerged from hell into paradise. I now take a seat on the couch and watched the others get it on. I masturbate, knowing I have survived the inferno. My Private Iran Pt. 02 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 second blog entry and it has been an orgasmic few days, but also confusing few days. I've been splitting my time between Qom and Tehran and below is my account of the last few days. Sexually forbidding place Tehran has been in the last few days. Walking through the streets with pictures of Khomeini and Khamenei looking down with forbidding eyes at a populace. Pictures of young boys, who were martyred during the Iran-Iraq war and clear signs of commemorations, which are due to take place for the war that claimed a million lives in the 1980's.My mother and I are heading out to Behesht-e Zahra or Zahra's Paradise, which is Iran's largest cemetery and its believed to contain 1.3 million graves. It's particularly famous for housing the war dead and my mother's uncle Mehdi is buried there. He was killed in 1984 when the Iraqis using chemical weapons (supplied by the Americans) and gassed his regiment. But while visiting the cemetery, I find it hard to concentrate on the dead, I'm too busy thinking about being penetrated. Last night, I watched a bootleg American Porn DVD and watching all these hulky, meaty and hot American men with juicy penises fucking some big-tit whore made me rub my pussy ferociously all night. I wonder if these big boys would love to fuck an Iranian girl? I think interracial sex is a beautiful thing. I almost drool at the thought of it, but suddenly remember that I am in a cemetery and must stay focused. But what I wouldn't give to have a nice, juicy and messy American cock in my mouth. Filthy, uncut and wrong mmmmm.... I manage to regain enough composure to pretend I am interested in my surrounding, my mother places flowers on Mehdi's grave and says a little pray. There are pictures of him on his well-decorated grave and I stare at him and think of a wasted life. I will not waste my life to empower someone else. We soon leave the cemetery and I jump into our Honda and we head to Qom, my mother is driving and I am reading Voltaire. It's less than a two-hour drive to Qom and we soon arrive. Qom- what can I say about the place? It's the religious center of Iran, most of the clerics who run Iran have either their origins or bases here. It's full of mosques and religious schools and seminaries called Madrassas- students flock here from across the Shia world to study Theology, Jurisprudence, Religious Cannons, Rhetoric, Logic, Grammar, Natural Philosophy, Metaphysical Philosophy, Philosophy of Mathematics and Science among other things. There is no parallel to this education system in the contemporary West, its closer to Ancient Greek Philosophical schools and the likes of Plato and Aristotle would be more at home here than in Oxford or Harvard. My father teaches here and I've come to see him. Because I am visiting Qom, I am wearing a tight black Hijab with no hairs showing, but I am still wearing jeans. The locals know I am a Tehrani girl and many look at me disapprovingly, they think girls from Tehran are rich snobbish sluts, which is pretty bad as I have to spend a few days here. I enter my father's office, he's sitting behind his desk and there is a man sitting in-front of him. We greet one another and my father introduces me to the man sitting down. "This is Michael Salman Anderson, he comes from America and is one of my students. My best student actually. He's only been Muslim for three-years, but already he can beat any born Muslim with his piety, steadfastness, devotion and with his spiritual knowledge." My father laughs and Michael looks embarrassed. He places his hand on his chest to greet me, he wouldn't dare stick his hand out to shake mine, and most pious Muslim men will not shake a woman's hand. Converts tend to be the most religious serious, but despite his almost forbidding and austere nature. He was so beautiful with his long blonde hair, blonde beard and moustache, piercing blue eyes and pale skin. He addressed me with a thick American accent and I knew I wanted him. But getting him would be difficult, I could not do classical seduction and I had to do it with the utmost discretion. I need to entice him and make it impossible for him to refuse me. He tries hard not to stare at me and I know he wants me and so I turn my warm Iranian charm on. He seems flattered and embarrassed at the same time. I cannot go too far or reveal my hand in-front of my father and so I stop with the pleasantries, and my father and I, go off. A few hours later and I am walking alone and I spot Michael sitting on a public bench, I decide to run into the store next to me and buy two ice creams. I buy a freezer pop for myself and plan to approach Michael, while I am eating and sucking it, and I hope it will send him a message. I walk over to him, "Michael, hi how are you?" I unwrap the pop and slowly stick it into my mouth. "Oh, ahhhh, hi Shahnaz...How are you?" He seems surprised and a little bit sweaty, but he has eyed me up and down and is trying to hide his obvious attraction to me. "I'm good, very good. May I take a seat?" "Sure.." I take a seat and offer him the second freezer pop I bought, which he accepts, but as I hand it to him I notice his arm is shaking. I try to calm him down and start asking him about his time in Qom and his life. I watch his lips move with increasing confidence, I smile and look at him deeply, and notice how aroused he is becoming. "You know what is great about our religion?" I say to him in a slow fashion, while pausing to suck on my freezer pop some more. "It's the central importance it places on sexual and erotic pleasure, within the confines of marriage of course. But nonetheless it's there, a woman has the right to divorce her husband if he does not sexually satisfy her. Some Sufi poets use sexual imagery and activity to bring them closer to the divine." Michael looks uneasy, "Most Iranian girls don't talk about sex that openly, what's going on?" "I'm not most girls, I'm the daughter of a mulla. I'm not a typical Persian girl, probably because I am Azeri Turkish. I notice how you look at me, it must be hard to be devout and pious in this day and age. I really do admire what you have done, but leading an austere life must be difficult. It can be hard to concentrate when your distracted and I want to help you get closer to the divine by ending this distraction. It's a very restricting life-style, you must just want a release. A chance to relieve yourself." "Stop it..devil woman...get away from me." But he can't get away from me, he too tempted and turned on. I bet his cock is so stiff, he can barely walk. I place my hand around his neck, "Don't be so afaird, I'm here to help you. I've always wanted a big strong American man and I suggest we do the honorable thing. We can do Mu'tah (temporary religious marriage) for a few days and then we can depart ways and you can get back to your life and studies. I like to help people you see. Plus when you are with or studying under my father and he is harsh or strict with you, you can feel pleased you had his daughter." Michael looks like he is fighting temptation, "When you're walking in a field and you see a tree and attached to this tree is the reediest apple you've ever seen. Is it not a crime not to take a bite? After all, what is the beauty around us, but the greatest evidence of divine manifestation. Thus to eat the apple is not a mere act of wiping away hunger, it's an act of devotion, because to taste the ripest of fruit is to appreciate and learn of the genius of the maker. If that be so for fruit, is it not more so for females?" I ask him. I notice a twitch in his crotch area and I know that I have nearly broken him and all it needs is one finial act. I know exactly what to do, I move in closely towards him and being blowing air gently onto his cheek. It works he snaps and agrees to the temporary marriage. We travel across Qom to find a Mullah who will perform the five-minute service. We find one and agree to a week-long marriage. We rent an apartment, not too far from the Ayatollahas quarter in old Qom, but we don't immediately get down to business. In order to get the most out of the week, we go out and about, to normalise us as a couple, which I hope will lead to better sex-because he will be more comfortable with me. We go around all the sites, before returning back. I head off to the bathroom to get dressed into a black cocktail dress and set my hair free and allow it to flow. Slipping on high heel shoes, I leave the bathroom and head for the kitchen, there I grab a bowl and put a selection of different color grapes. I also pour bootleg wine into two glasses and head into the living room, where Michael is sitting on the couch. I place the bowl and wine on the coffee table in-front of me. But Michael slips back into a nervous state and starts shaking, "This is wrong, you're wrong." He repeats and I decide to calm him down with poetry recitation. It's at times like this I turn to the mystical poet Rumi. "Calm down...When I am with you, we stay up all night. When you're not here, I can't sleep. Praise God for these two Insomnias! And the difference between them." He is slowly calming down, "With the Beloved's water of life, no illness remains. In the Beloved's rose garden of union, no thorn remains. They say there is a window from one heart to another, how can there be a window where no wall remains?" I take a sip of wine and hand a glass to Michael, he immediately rebukes, he asks me how we can drink alcohol when its clearly forbidden. I know just the poem for him, "I drink wine and opponents from the left and right say, drink no wine for it is against faith. Since I know that it's against faith, by God let me drink, for the blood of my enemies is acceptable to me." Michael starts drinking and I place my hand on his crotch area and stroke above his jeans. I love the effect I have on men. I pick up a bundle of grapes and begin feeding Michael, while I gently stroke, touch and grope him above his clothes. I suddenly escalate my previously gentle action and I stand up and sit back down on Michael's lap. No sooner than my butt makes contact with his crotch, that I feel a stiff thing pointing through his jeans and pushing up against my butt. "Ohh..my my. For a good boy, you are awfully stiff. But can a good boy handle a girl like me?" I begin rocking back and forth on his crotch. Harder and harder he becomes. There's no stopping him and I now. He grabs me by the arms and I turn around to face him, while still sitting in his crotch. I wrap my arms around him and he says, "You know in the States, we have a word for girls like you. Maneater." "Who satisfyith the mouth with good things, making the young lusty like an eagle." I say as I move in to kiss him on the lips. Our lips at first brush, but then manage elongated contact, like eating the delicious apple, we take out time and start off with small bites that turn into bigger ones. My tongue enters into his mouth, which surprises him greatly, pleasantly I am sure, but surprised nonetheless. The poor fool thought he had left America the land of vice and lust and came to Iran the land of purity and virtue and instead he finds himself in the land of lustful youth. The Iranian libido is like a volcano, much of the year lava oozes over the top, but every now and again there is an eruption. My tongue helps to salivate his mouth and his mine, we keep exchanging tongues, as well as mouthful fluids. I can feel the room temperature increasing, sweat permeates Michael's brow, but rather than allowing it to dangle, I extend my tongue and wipe away the sweat. I begin kissing and licking his forehead, then I work my tongue down his cheeks and around his neck. I bite away and leave red marks across his neck, I act like I am a woman possessed, like a lustful demon has taken over my body and I am desperate to get it out of me. I am leading this thing and I hope he realizes, that Iranian woman are always in-charge. I am a child of the revolution, a slut born of the Islamic Republic and I take no prisoners-only jizz-but never prisoners. I rip of his t-shirt, I see nipples before me and know what to do. Wasting no time, I move in and my tongue encircles his nipples and I lick across them, which sends a tingling sensation across his body. I suck on his nipples like I would suck his cock, I start off by teasing, licking, sucking and then biting and I look up at him with my big eyes. He is going wild, the look on his face of an intrepid explorer, who is only aroused by dangerous journeys and encounters with wild creatures. Yes, I should be in a zoo in America, I should be in a cage with a red blanket covering the cage. A show master should gather an audience and unveil the cage from the sheet and cry, behold the Iranian woman, no pictures, do not arouse the beast therein for she is a lusty creature. I spit onto his nipples and rub it in, I do not leave a spot unspat on. I force him to open his mouth and from a distance, I unleash a drool, which is thick, slimy and I allow it to dangle in mid-air until it falls into his mouth and he swallows. I begin to nibble on his earlobes and blow air into his ears, I want him to know, how perverted I am. I whisper into his ear, "I am a child of the Islamic Republic and I know no bound." I then kiss down his body until I reach his crotch area. I kiss above his clothed crotch area and quip, "What lies beneath is the stuff of poetry, It's the wine of Hafez, indeed it's a Diwan of its own." I pull down his pants and underwear and there it is, staring at me, the pride of American manhood and masculinity. I closed my eyes and in-some way gave thanks to the authors of Persian poetry for giving me the words to describe the feeling of awe and joy that has befallen me. Am I worthy? Of course I am. Two of my fingers grip his cock and I place my face in close proximity to it. I examine it, like a biologist examines something they have never seen, before dissecting it. I take a moment to appreciate this marvel of natural craftsmanship. I blow air onto it to see how male gentiles react to Iranian H20, and conclude the chain reaction of the coming together of these two elements of nature is an erection. Of course, good science needs to be tested more than once and so I repeat the experiment. The results seem pretty conclusive. I extend my tongue out to this foreign object and in a way, I feel like an Anthropologist entering into a rain forest to study a tribe they have never encountered before. Unsure of the reaction of the tribe or who is friend of foe. But as soon as my tongue brushes the tip, I know I am in familiar territory. His human warmth leaves a distinct impression on my tongue, which process the taste and salivates my mouth to produce spit and drool. I spit onto his tip and gently rub the spit in. I start to lick from the tip to the base in broad strokes of the tongue. Like Da Vinci working on Mona Lisa, I take my art very seriously and the detail and care I put into my blow jobs is very meticulous. I lift his penis upwards and start licking underneath his balls, biting, sucking and swallowing each nut and teasing it with my tongue. I then work my tongue upwards again and push his cock down again, I then start drooling on it. I allow the drool to hang in the air for a few moments, once it lands, I aggressively rub it in. Groans and grunts is the extent of his contribution, but being a show girl, the audience is enjoyment is critical. I place my entire mouth onto his cock and begin to suck, I push him in and out of my mouth. I mouth fuck him, he's my bitch at this moment. I push his cock further and further down my mouth until it reaches the gates of my throat. I take a moment-before-attempting to push his cock down my throat. I cough and chock a little, but I solider on nonetheless and like a real trooper, I manage to get his cock down my throat. I encourage him to throat fuck me, which he does in sporadic bursts, the rest of the time I am fucking him off in my throat. It creates and Adams Apple like ball or lump in the middle of my neck and my throat is being backed-up with precum. I swallow in quick successions. Round after round and hot load after hot load, I take everything down and do not waste a drop. My breath now smell of precum, but I demanded it be so. I look up at Michael with my big eyes, while I suck his cock. He is groaning so loudly, that I am afraid the police are going to hear. Suddenly, he discharges a large deposit, clearly my warm tongue on his manhood is having a positive effect on him. Pretty soon is cuming, left-right-and center and from every direction. My mouth is filling up with hot cum. I withdraw my mouth from his cock and play around with his cum in my mouth. I drool it out, onto my arm, before re-licking it. I regurgitate a few times, let it swim around my mouth like mouth wash, before finally swallowing it all. I allow the enzymes in my mouth to break down the cum and take out the nutrients, protein and possible starch. Who says cum is bad for you? Once all is swallowed, I open my mouth and stick out my tongue to show him that the deed is done. I now stand up and stand on the couch, I beckon him to lick my pussy. He places his mouth onto my pussy and begin to work on my lower outer lip. I raise my head and cry out, "Good boy, that's it, right there. Yes, hit the spot babe." His tongue, mouth and teeth go to task on it and leave no area of my outer lips unaffected. Like a hurricane he blows heavy winds onto my sensitive outer lips. His tongue gradually works its way into my inner lips and reaches the gates of my inner sanctum or the forbidden city of hidden wonder, as I like to call it. I push my pussy into his face and hold the back of his head. He struggles to breath and knows the only way out it too lick his way out. And lick he does, he never though he's have a mouth full of pussy, when he woke up today. He penetrates the walls of my forbidden city like a Mongol invader and my internal defense are compromised by it. Deeper and deeper he goes and like the Khans of the Mongol Steppe, he soon has complete control of it. I surrender my pussy to his tongue and he creates untold levels of pleasure for me. I begin to leak onto his face, his outer mouth and lips are covered in my cum. I push harder into his mouth and pretty soon this leak turns into a flood and he starts gulping down large sways of female juice. I force him to swallow every drop, nothing goes to waste, my pussy juice is too precious. After he has swallowed it all, I drop onto his lap, I pull his cock upwards and place it inside my warm pussy. I motion upwards and then downwards, then sideways, I ride him like a horse. My pussy is being expanded by his huge cock, indeed this is proving to be quite a stretch, but more importantly it's stretching my imagination. I can now imagine future possibilities, but for the meantime, I am in a stick situation, quite literally. The she-devil is awake and is looking for her next victim, this cock is such a victim. This is a bouncing game, it's like being on a bouncing castle, and only my pussy is getting what it deserves. I will physically exhaust him, use him and abuse him. While riding him, I slap him across the face, because I believe the world needs balance. Pleasure must be followed by pain. But really I do it to assert my authority over him. Oh my pussy is really expanding. Oh yeah... 20 minutes, 30 minutes and finally 40 minutes pass, my pussy is incredibly moist and has been softened by it. I feel cum pouring out of my pussy and I feel it being poured into my pussy. Two bits of cum meet one another and mix. They become one. Relief is at hand, Michael can't stop cuming and neither can I. There so much of the white hot stuff. We eventually stop. My Private Iran Pt. 02 I jump off Michael and I pick up a glass, I try to squeeze the cum out of my pussy and into the glass. Once, I've got as much as I can out, I begin to drink the glass full of cum and give sounds of relief by releasing breath. Sex born out of revolution, you better believe it. My Private Iran Pt. 03 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 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 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 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.