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 Part 10 Limits of fear I started with a blank screen April 5, 2002 The Iranian I woke up from my dream dehydrated and went downstairs and drank half the jug of cold water that was always kept in the refrigerator. Then I went back to my room, to my bed, smoked a joint and felt much better. It was a warm dawn. I took off my T-shirt letting the cotton shamad act as my only cover. I was trying to remember my dream: something about going to a roezeh with my old friend Zahra. Strange is indeed the realm of dream and fantasy. I wanted to stop thinking and the grass had made me feel euphoric. There in the stillness of the dawn I felt a lonely yearning between my legs. I ran my hand down the flat of my stomach till it reached my pubic hair and pulled it. My fingers found my clitoris as if on their own volition. My forefinger started moving in a slow familiar pace. I closed my eyes, ran a tongue over my lips and tried to conjure up an image that could be of immediate use for the task at hand. I had to push Jafar out of my mind's movie screen more than once -- and thoughts of Goli and Ardeshir where too near to work. I tried to think of another place far from the danger of any Tehran setting that might include betrayal and pain or etelaati agents jerking off. I started with a blank screen. I was in a room in Paris. One of those attic rooms made, for the maids of bourgeois households, at the turn of the century, with a window that had a view of rooftops stretching to the Eiffel tower. There was Nader with his big throbbing kir. He had me tied to the four posts of the bed. He was talking dirty, "Take this big cock you bitch I am going to fuck your brains out", as he entered me. I let out a sigh of pain. He was so big he took the breath out of me. "Koseto paareh meekonam," he said as he pushed harder and harder. I wanted badly to be touched on the clitoris, "Kossam-o-bemaal" I moaned. This helplessness, this being at the mercy of someone whom I was not one hundred percent sure of, was an incredible turn on for me. It took me back to a delicious sense of suspense that I felt when I was a child pushing towards the limits of my fear. I wanted badly, desperately for him to touch me there, where my yearning seemed to reach its apex, "Kosamo bemal." He slapped me just enough lightly and said, "Saaket baash jendeh." He kept ramming me at a faster and faster pace. I could feel his ball touching me every time he pushed. I begged him to touch me. He instead pulled out his penis. Came up and put each knee to either side of my face. With his hand he put his kir in my mouth and pushed. I thought I was going to gag. I turned my face to let his penis out but he grabbed my hair and held my head steady. He was fucking my mouth -- I could neither close my mouth nor remove his thick penis. I surrendered to his will. "Bemeek jendeh!" He took it out put the tip to my lip and said, "You suck me good bitch and I will touch your filthy clit you jendeh shahre nowee." I squeezed the tip of his kir between my lips running my wet tongue over the shaft. He slowly let it enter my mouth as I curled my tongue around it. "He is so big I can't hold all of him in my mouth," I thought to myself. I tried my best to please him. I was so wet and hot that I felt like if I did not come there and then I would die. He pulled out to let me breathe and said, "khoob khordi jendeh?" I nodded, "Kosam-o-bemaal," I pleaded. He took his kir and put on my kos. I let out a cry of joy. He pushed the tip of his penis into the surface of my clitoris and moved it with his hand in quick vertical movements first slow and then faster and faster. "Begoo kiramo meekhaay," he commanded. I obeyed, "Kiret o meekham." I was feeling the beginning of an orgasm coming. I begged, "don't stop." He slowed down, and my heart fell. Is he going to really abandon my pleasure and only take from me his own? With Nader I could never tell. "Begoo, baazam, begoo" he said. I repeated, "Kireto meekhaam." Over and over again, the more I said it the faster he rubbed my clitoris. I felt a the wave of orgasm over take me, "Daaram meeyaam." I screamed, "kireto bokon too kossam, kireto meekhaam." He lifted his kir and pushed into my kos, ramming it hard into me yelling, "Begir jendeh." He rammed harder and faster pushing my orgasm to the depths of my body, until he let out a loud howl, "Begir jendeh", he said one more time and came. I heard my mother call me to come to breakfast. To be continued...
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