Islam, Chelokabab and Wet T-Shirt

During a three-night stay in Vancouver, I was invited to a condo party.  My friend’s posh condo was walking distance from the hotel … I was alone, and he was trying to pay off prior dinners at our place.

It turned out to be a “get to know your Persian neighbor” party. Most people at the simple dinner were FOB (fresh off the boat) Iranians – with more money than any of us mere mortals can ever count. Hence, their surprise to meet someone like me … a “veritable” Canadian-Iranian in shorts and sandals … while 90% of the men in attendance were wearing three-piece suites!

Don’t know about you guys, but I am not going to wear tie to a condo party-room. Besides, I was wearing my bathing suit underneath, for a swim in the promised deluxe condo pool.

One of the new condo owners in attendance, was an ex IRI chief of one thing or the other (a hairy and ugly creature, whom I shall call Mr. Mohr Pishoni) … with a pretty wife who was searching for a low-cost English as Second Language class.

Anyhow, I was standing there like a sore thumb, trying to be friendly and helpful towards various inquiries and questions. But it was clear that the well dressed crowd was simply confused by my presence; and was even dreading the thought of turning into a slob like me, in 10-20 years.

The reception was chips and pop … and the meal was Chelokabab, served out of big aluminum containers onto plastic plates. If E.E. is reading this … you still owe me a proper dinner, dude!

Thanks god for the line-up and mayhem associated with the grand opening of the Chelokabab aluminum-containers, which allowed me to sneak out. Tired and bored, I decided to use the nice condo pool for some cool down.

It was between the 5th and the 6th lap that I noticed the strangest thing in the world. Mrs. MP came to the pool area, all clad and covered in shirt, pants and scarf.

Trying hard to maintain my coordination, and prevent chlorinated water from entering me lungs … I carried on, wondering what she was going to do. Well, she stepped gingerly into the hot-tub by the pool, and sat there immersed to her neck.

After 15 minutes, when she stood up – I realized how much sexier the all-clad and wet woman’s body can be, compared to the swimsuit. Again more pool water entered my respiratory system, but it was worth the good look at that wet and plum figure.

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Iranian Singles

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Meet your Persian Love Today!
Meet your Persian Love Today!