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This story is about an adult subject. If you are under 18
and happen to read this, talk to an adult afterwards. And ask lots of questions. Part 6 Her lips to mine My heart fell to my toes and came back up to my throat March 8, 2002 The Iranian I could smell her clean powder scent before I awoke. My eyes opened and fell on Goli's face. She was lying next to me on the bed -- turned on her side. Awake and staring at me. The room was still and I could hear her breathing lightly. Her eyes seemed to have tears in them. The kind that just stays so -- intent on not falling. She smiled. I smiled back thinking how meager a smile mine was next to this perfect one of hers -- surely this is what Plato meant when he spoke of ideal and ordinary forms. She had her head propped in the palm of her hand leaning on one elbow. Her long black hair was flipped to one side accentuating the tilt of her head. A ray of sun through the crack of the curtain lit her cream colored, pale skin making it look like marble. She wore an ever so light white cotton nightshirt the kind that buttoned down. I could see the perfect curve of her breasts that were neither too big nor too small. Just perfect pointing upward with grace. Her long legs were crossed at the ankles. Her knees, bent a little to the side, were angular but smooth at just the right spots. They were at once boyish and feminine. Surely the gods must have created her for themselves and by some bureaucratic muck up in the heavens she had ended up in Bananis hands! "Did you sleep well?" She asked, as if anyone could answer in negatives to that sweet voice. "Very," I said, swallowing, not really sure why Goli was there half naked, staring at me. She kept staring in the most audacious way. My heart was beating to the tune of my confusion. If this was New York I would know better but here in Iran there is a notion of physical intimacy between people of the same gender that is not necessarily sexual. One often sees teenage girls walking hand in hand. I reminded myself of all of this as I smiled back at her stare. "Stay with the local pace, Sarvenaz" I thought to myself. "Did you sleep here? Next to me?" I asked. "I have been watching you. I like to watch people and see how they wake up. I play this game were I count to see how long I have to stare before they wake up." "How did I score?" "You were very quick. I counted only to thirty and you were up." "I'm glad you approve of my light sleep." "It reveals a certain level of sensitivity." She kept looking at me and I was frozen. Faced with all this beauty -- even if, or perhaps because, it was another woman -- I was speechless. I dared not think that she knew how I was thinking. And I dared not read into the fact of her presence next to me, in this bed, half naked, and staring at me the way a man would! The price of over estimating gestures is too great. Why risk losing that smile forever. A girl friend is worth a thousand lovers. I got up quickly and sat at the edge of the bed. "Where is Jamshid?" I asked. "Oh he is sleeping in the guest room upstairs." "With Zari Khanom?" "No, she had to go back to Tehran," Goli smiled and added with a teasing look and tilt of the chin, "Jamshid should be available by now." "Oh, no..." "Why not," sounding a little jealous was she? She turned on her stomach, her nightshirt slid up to her waist and revealed a bare, set of buttocks so perfectly shaped and proportioned that they took the breath away. "I have to shower and get back to Tehran," I said, turning away. I felt her two hands on my shoulders as she pulled me back. My heart fell to my toes and came back up to my throat and stayed there palpitating. The imminence of what was about to happen tickled my every nerve and pulled at it with unbearable promise. "Forget about Jamshid," she almost groaned as she pulled me back on the mattress and crawled on top of me putting her lips to mine. I gave in to Goli without a moments thought. I had wanted to from the minute she walked into Leila's party. I had lived enough to notice a desire in myself when I saw one. It was as though my whole life I had waited to be pulled into this bed by Goli Banani: that beautiful deity who had appeared into my life only a couple of nights before. I fell back on the mattress as she put her mouth on mine and kissed a dry kiss. From there she marked all of my face with little kisses as if to thank me for not having rejected the first one. I took her searching, pleading face in my hand and kissed her letting my tongue enter her mouth in one big gesture of approval and yearning. She kissed me back more eagerly than any man ever had. I cupped her perfect breasts and caressed them as she put her hand on my breast and found my nipple. With her knee she pressed into my crotch. I felt a wave of desire so strong I can count the amount of times in my life that I have felt it. My legs locked her knee not wanting to let it go. She put her mouth on my breast and moved her tongue in rapid circular motion around my nipples, pulling them every once in a while with her cub like hungry teeth. My hands found the perfect curve of her buttocks and squeezed. This made her push with the palm of her hand against my panties. It felt so good that I sighed a big, "ahhhhhhhhhhh..." "You are so beautiful baby," she said in a husky whisper that could, alone, have made me come. "My God, have you not seen yourself?" I gasped, still not able to fully digest this blissful turn of events. She took off my panties and put her long searching fingers into the folds of my kos. She found my clitoris and placed her forefinger firmly on it. I surrendered to her touch. I let my hand slip in the crack of her behind and find it's way from there to her vagina. I slipped two fingers in. Her moistness made me groan. She pushed her body into mine in a desperate gesture. I moved two fingers gently inside her. She kissed me as if in gratitude. I turned over in one desperate motion, got on top of her and buried my head in her breast as I continued with my fingers to caress her. I kissed her face like it was the last face I would ever see. The eyes, the eyebrows, the chin, the nose, everything was a spot for me to kiss. My fingers moved trying to explore every nook and cranny of her kos. She moaned, "Meekhaamet..." ("I want you"). When my forefinger found its place on her clitoris it began to move in long, deliberate movements. The kind I use to make myself come. It felt as though I was touching myself and someone else at the same time. My pleasure, being mirrored like this, doubled. Her body rose in approval and yearning to meet my touch. We touched each other as though we had always done it. This play was very intense and light at the same time. It was like we were surrounded by four glass walls of identical pleasure dancing to the rhythm of our mutual desire. She pressed a long tongue into my ear. I gasped and pushed my fingers a little more into her. She let out a sigh of approval. I kept a rhythm moving one finger on her clitoris in repetitive circular motion. She emulated my touch. Repeating the movement of my finger with hers. How could one finger give so much pleasure? She licked and kissed my face with abandon. Flipping her hair back to the side. "Khoshgeli," I gasped, "Joonam," I added never having meant it more. "I wanted to do this to you since I saw you at Leila's," she said through her breathing. I felt a wave of orgasm knocking at the door of my desire, ready to relieve it. I started moving my finger more rapidly on her clitoris. I wanted her to come with me. I wanted to swim in the sea of our orgasms. I wanted to make her trembling mine. "This is so good. Please don't stop." " I'm going to come," I said softly as I continued moving my fingers, desperately, ever wanting to please. To reciprocate every move of her fingers was my mission. I could feel her pleasure like it was mine. "I'm coming," she screamed. That single statement of fact made me come as well. I felt the wave of pleasure form at the tip of my clitoris and spiral into the depths of my vagina. We let out our ahhhhhhhhhs together reaching our orgasms in perfect unison melting into each others bodies becoming one in that single moment of perfectly mirrored bliss. We held each other with arms and legs locked in mutual need, as though bracing for the after shocks of an earthquake. I felt the saltiness of a tear and held her back to see. Goli was crying, "That was so good." "I know. I'm still in shock." "You did not expect to see the little Sappho in me did you?" "No. I did not. I thought we were in Iran. Remember the Islamic Republic?" She laughed, "This place makes you think that everything is worth trying. Nothing is worth denying." Then hesitating she added, "Do you want to know something?" I nodded yes. "This was my first time with a woman." We heard the sound of a door opening and another shutting. Then we heard Banani, "Goli kojaaee?" To be continued...
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