Wild at heart


Wild at heart
by Jahanshah Javid

I really don't know how to begin this blog. But I feel I have to write it in any way possible. It's a true story about Laura, an old flame. The latter part of this love story is no secret -- I've told it to several people, sometimes to change the subject of a boring conversation, sometimes to shock. But most often, I think, I wanted to be honest and reveal an unusual, if not important, part of my life to a significant other. To be understood, warts and all. Mostly warts. And now I feel comfortable enough with myself and my life to share it with everyone.

I met Laura at a party at a beach house near where I lived with my family in a small town north of Honolulu, Hawaii. It was late spring, early summer, 1978. I think she was not yet 15, about a year or so younger than me. The attraction was instant. It was her beautiful oval face, long brown hair, warm smile and cutest giggles that did me in. She was sitting on the floor, wearing a colorful wool pancho to keep warm from the cool ocean breeze. We played backgammon and laughed all night. I couldn't get enough of her.

A few days later she joined a group of schoolmates and I at the movies. I made sure I would sit next to her as we watched "Smokey and the Bandit". Our elbows would meet from time to time, sending an incredible jolt throughout my body. While driving on the way back home, I would constantly stare at her face through the rear-view mirror every chance I got. I couldn't help it.

One day I decided to ask her out on a date. I gathered all my courage, took a deep breath and called her home. She first thought this was another outing with a bunch of friends. When I made my intentions clear, she was surprised. She had never been asked out on a date.  When she said yes, I was in heaven. I knew she was a Beatles' fan like me, so I recorded their love songs on a tape and we sang along on the long drive to the theater. I remember every film we saw: "Heaven can Wait", "Eyes of Laura Mars" and finally, "Death on the Nile".

The love affair was totally innocent. There was no physical contact, although once at the beach, we were standing waist deep in the water and I slowly reached and held her hand. When our fingers locked, it was the most beautiful feeling. Once in the car I asked if I could kiss her, and she said she was too shy. I didn't push it and never asked or make any other attempt.

During lunch breaks at school, I would go over to her house and exchange love notes and listen to music. Earth Wind and Fire's "Reasons" I remember well. She taught me the word "exacerbate". She was good with words, or rather, I was bad. Still am. On the fresh concrete sidewalk by her house, we etched our names: "Laura + Jahanshah" with a heart.  One night we parked near the beach, lied down in the back of my Datsun station wagon and looked at the stars while listening to music on the radio. "1 3 4...  I love you" I said, with all my heart. At the school dance she looked so goddamn hot in her pink halter top. Holding her close in the slow dance was... I wanted it to last forever.

"Forever" lasted just a couple of months. Laura broke up with me. I think I was just too intense and insecure. Too high up in la la land. Consequently my inevitable landing was crushing. Even though we were both in the cross country team, I couldn't look at her. And I certainly didn't want to be "friends". She would tease me and try to talk to me like a normal human being, but I wanted all or none of her. Interesting that after 30 years, I still exhibit the same juvenile behavior with those I have lost but still intensely love. I sulk like an abandoned little boy.

A few weeks after the revolution in February 1979, my step-father, who had joined the U.S. military, made a transfer request to a base in Germany and got accepted. Before our departure, Laura put together a surprise good-bye party. A very sweet gesture which I deeply appreciated. After the party I was standing on the road on top of the hill by Laura's house. She kissed me on the cheek and we parted. I can still feel the big lump in my throat.

We kept in touch through letters. Ah letters... arriving weeks and months at a time, making them so special and exhilarating compared to instant emails in today's electronic age. I guess I now prefer emails since they eliminate long stretches of heart wrenching uncertainty and fantasizing, although nothing can match the romantic aspect of letters.

When I graduated from high school in Germany and rushed back to Iran to experience the revolution, Laura and I were still exchanging letters. One of her letters arrived from Alaska, where she had joined an oceanic research team. She had included several photos, some showing her in a bikini, which drove me absolutely mad. This at a time when I was turning religious and buying into revolutionary slogans. Theoretically at least, I was supposed to control my temptations, especially towards a beautiful American infidel 10,000 miles away!

When Iraq invaded Iran in September 1980, I called Laura one night. She was worried about my safety. But I assured her that everything would be OK and that Saddam Hussein would be toppled soon! I then mailed her a book of photographs chronicling the 1978-79 revolution. I wrote on the first page [original text]:

"To Laura and everyone who sence [sic] the meaning of freedom. This book is only part of the story of the whole history of mankind to become free and the story of the people who want to bring their message of freedom to the oppressed people all over the world. Learn and understand history.

"With the sure belief that the truth will prevail,

"Jahanshah Javid
October 1980"

Laura on the other hand sent me a copy of our school yearbook. She signed it in the back, partly in Spanish, which to this day I have no idea what it says. See Laura in her cross country team and me in the men's team. This is me with my big afro :o)

Despite my fascination with the revolution, my love for Laura was something else. Our letters and phone calls continued. John Lennon's death in December ignited passions again, thanks to one of his last songs, "Just like Starting Over". But again, I was flying way too high. Laura told me we should stop all the non-sense and get real. Again, I hit the wall at 500 miles an hour. I remember I went and bought some pastille crayons and started drawing feverishly. In one drawing I outlined the profile of a man in blue and a woman in red facing each other on a dark brown background.

Brokenhearted, confused and jobless, I wanted to leave Iran and go back to the U.S. It was impossible. I could not leave before completing compulsory military service. [see "Saving Private Zero"]

Five months later I married a colleague at the Islamic Republic News Agency.


In January 1990 I was back in the U.S., burned out, sick of politics and religion, divorced and hungry for love again. I enrolled as a student at the journalism department of the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque but my mind was somewhere else. I had no idea where Laura was but I took a chance and wrote a letter to her best friend and neighbor, Davalyn, in Hawaii. I did not have the exact address, so I just wrote her name and the name of her street. I got lucky. The letter reached Davalyn's parents and they passed it on to Laura, who was now living in southern California. A couple of weeks later I got a letter. You can imagine how I felt just looking at the envelope with Laura's name on it. I was besides myself. I opened it and... I was shocked. She was not only married with two kids, but she had married our chemistry teacher! The chemistry teacher?! That ugly bald guy with a mustache who was married and had a kid when we were in school?! Good Lord...

Laura still looked beautiful though. She had sent a couple of pictures along with her letter, one family portrait, and one of herself. Along with a phone number. When I called, her husband was out at a football game. We spoke for several hours and I was once more under her spell. But this time, something happened, something I never expected or experienced before. Towards the end of our conversation, I detected a change in her voice... how can I describe it? Sensual? Like a cat purring? She was lying on her bed and wanted me to talk and talk until she finally had an orgasm! I did not know what was happening exactly since I had never had phone sex before. It was the strangest thing. What just happened? What does it mean? We broke a few moral codes, to say the least.

Despite the questions and confusion, the call ended with a promise to meet. And sure enough I was in southern California a few weeks later. I was supposed to meet her at work. She was the branch manager of a major company. I walked in and there she was, all busy -- and shy. I wanted to take her into one of the office rooms, lock the door and kiss her. I didn't, of course. I didn't know what to do or what to say. Neither of us did. We got into her van and drove to meet up with Davalyn for lunch. It was a lot of fun recalling our time together in Hawaii and my adventures in Iran. Afterwards Laura and I went for a walk. We went inside a bookstore and I saw a second-hand copy of a book of poems by Hafez in Persian with English translation. I couldn't resist the customary "faal".  I made a wish (love) and opened a random page and the poem said something like "you owe me a kiss or two". I can't remember it but I found this online and it could very well be the one I saw that day:


all this time
the sun never says to the earth
"you owe me"
what happens
with a love like that
it lights the
whole sky
a pair
of mismatched newlyweds
one of whom still feels very insecure
I keep turning to you

I showed the poem to Laura. "No way! That's too weird!"

We then went to see a movie, David Lynch's "Wild at Heart". It was wild alright. We held hands and cuddled through most of the film. It was the summer of 1978 all over again.

We left the theater and drove down Santa Monica Blvd to Ocean Ave. She parked her van and we stepped out. It was sunset. With the orange ocean view, it couldn't have been more romantic. Finally, more than 12 years later, Laura and I gently held each other and kissed. I could have died and happily gone to heaven. I didn't care that I was kissing a married woman. I was kissing the one I loved. That's all that mattered. And that was just the beginning.

We drove further down on Ocean Ave and parked on the street. It was dark but people on the sidewalk could still see us if they came close enough. We didn't care. We went into the back of the van and began making love. It was an unbelievable, unforgettable hour of being one with the one I had loved so long. All those crazy, childish fantasies of Laura had come true. At least for one night. When we stopped, the windows had fogged up. We sat, naked, looking at each other, in silence. She looked so beautiful, like a mermaid, her long brown hair covering her breasts. We kissed I don't know for how long.

"I have to go home, it's very late," she said. Yes, back to reality. Reality! My god... reality. I didn't want to think about it. But there it was. The one thing no one can escape: reality.

The next day I arrived at Laura's house to have lunch with her and her husband. It was just a dumb gesture of "friendship" so that he would not suspect anything. Everything went fine. We talked about the old days and life in general. Nothing unusual. We all behaved politely. As I was leaving, Laura walked me to my car.

"He knew about last night."

I froze. I looked at Laura with anger and disbelief. "What?!"

"He knew. I told him."

"Are you serious? You told your husband we slept together? And you didn't tell me before I walked into your house?"

"We tell each other everything."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "What did he say when you told him?"

"He said 'I hope you had safe sex and used a condom'."

I was so angry. The weird factor of this reunion was multiplying beyond my ability to shield myself with fantasy and denial. Good old reality was back with a vengeance.

We met the following night for dinner. The air had changed. I don't know if my love had diminished but I was upset that a special moment between us had now turned into a psychological threesome of sorts. That didn't stop us from making love one last time. This time, there was more lust involved than love.

In the following weeks we spoke on the phone once or twice. It was uncomfortable. The spell was broken.


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more from Jahanshah Javid
American Wife

there is a word for this

by American Wife on

and it's called "obsession".  Once again, that fine line between what's acceptable and what isn't.  Readership has obviously been slow over the holidays...:-)


From Laura...

by Laura (not verified) on

I'm Laura. I'm the Laura everyone has been. I'm the Laura everyone has loved. I'm the Laura everyone has lost. I'm the Laura everyone still finds.

I'm so happy that Jahanshah still thinks of me and posted my photos and my letter because it reminds me of the Laura I was. And that that Laura is still in him. And it reminds me of the Laura that he was to me.

I can't for the life of me understand why anyone would think it was wrong for him to do post this No one who knows me will see this, and if they do they won't recognize me, unless they knew me then. And then they'd be so happy to see me and Jahanshah and remember the youth we all spent together.

I can't understand why so many people are focusing on the silly little details at the end that they find titillating or offensive or both... There are hundreds and thousands of different stories of how innocence is lost. They are all the same story.
And all of them are boring.

There is only one story of innocence itself and it is always new and it is never boring. It is in the photos of me and of Jahanshah when he was young and the letter I wrote him. I'd almost forgotten it.

Thank you so much for posting it for me Jahanshah. Thank you for keeping me alive.

I'm Laura.


pardon my french

by Kalantari 7-vakil alroaya (not verified) on

jj,call laura warn her.both of you must go underground.


Dear JJ

by Souri on

I just read your story. I felt so sad for you. I don't know why you share this with us today, but please believe my deep feeling of sadness. Laura is/was a selfish woman. What she did was very bad. Not only she was infidel to her own husband but also she was infidel to you and your pure feeling of love. I never forgive those women who look for lust and then they try to justify thier super egoistic action, by telling all to their husband just to weight down their own guilt. She used you, she used her husband....I also hate those husbands who play the intellectual, just to hide away from humiliation and their broken pride.

You have been hurt and this is unforgiven. I truly understand your feeling. There are people whom we know as child, then they become our idle. It's better we keep that image and never trying to approach them. The best thing is, when you look for them and finally you'd find them, just let them know where you are and keep away. If the feeling is as strong on the other side, then they will come to you, by themselves. Then you can be sure that they loved you too. You shouldn't expose yourself so freely to the one you had loved long time ago, and you don't know what person they have became now.

Sorry, my English is worse today !! I hope I could make myself understand , I have trouble to express my real feeling today.

Just listen to this beautiful song of Alanis, which your story reminded me of :




Hey Behnam..dont fret...They are talking of NIRVANA...

by Miny (not verified) on

Anybody has yet to beat Castro and Chamberlains for that matter of fact! hmmmm... What GlobalVoyeur could do is nothing....hahaha....world is truely opening up to just anything..thats the bottomline of frontline...As for JJ he was lucky...or else think how many of the people get to taste grapes before labelling them sour! errr...was that bottled wine...yet not mature...hahaha

Arey why fret we have many Brunis and Spears in daily lives too..dont underestimate the power of common people who go unrecognised for spreading love and then there are people like Lauras husband who are trying to bring peace in the world..come what may...hahaha.....no qualms always calm...what are morals..only virtuous people are capable of sinning...just do whatever you want, as much as you want, with whomsoever you want, whenever you want, whereever you want....call it LOVE...call it NIRVANA....call it SPELLING MISTAKE....remember when you dont have limits you are limitless...

Keep Smiling....this is naughty nasty foxy coxy world...these days virtue is sin...


well-written story. but

by Arsen W (not verified) on

well-written story. but infatuation isn’t love ... love tolerates disappointment, guards intimacy, and stands the test of time.

Behnam Khazar


by Behnam Khazar on

This is the natural prgression of IRANIAN.COM that after 10+ years it becomes the forum for bragging about masturbation in 3 continents in one day which is obviously a feat much higher than Jules Verne "Around the World in 80 Days" and a brave soul who rejected a threesome with beautiful twins and lived to brag about it.  Let's see if any Iranian ShirZan can top any of the stories! Where is Sarvenaz when you need her?

Looking forward for the next 10 years under great heavyhanded JJ editorial practice.

Sarcastic Ben'

Darius Kadivar

Advice to Unchained Hearts and bodies ;0)

by Darius Kadivar on


My Dear Unknown Naamesake, GB, regarding the Peter Sellers film,

by Global Voyeur #1 (not verified) on

the name "Being There" is also an allusion to the state of bliss and union with the All, it i9s the emptiness, the ground of being on which the sacred can be made manifest. In some sense, Chauncey Gardener due to his very ignorance, in some way, some ironic way, approaches true wisdom (as in the Sufi state of Fanaa...by NOT being there, he IS there...), especially in comparison to the successful high society around him.

Of course it's all very ironic. Another interesting point although perhaps a bit tangential:

Being There is a film adaptation of a Jersey Kozinski novel written ibn 1971. He was a Pole who wrote in English and a friend of Roman Polanski, the director. He'd been invited by Polanski's wife, Sharon Tate, to the party but he couldn't go. Had he gone he would've been a victim of the Charles Manson Family murders, one of the most brutal murders ever heard of in the US at that time (1969, the summer of Woodstock and the first man on the moon). It was pure chance that he survived.

However much later on Kozinsky was accused of plagarism and all kinds of things and became very depressed and committed suicide, finding the perfect way: he took pills, sat down in a bathtub, slit his wrists and covered his head with a bag. He covered all bases. People who have since wanted to commit suicide have often chosen his method.

\And yet these hilarious clips remain...

Ain't life funny? What do you think it means? Do you think it means anything at all?

Global Voyeur #1


OK, J., this is what Laura was trying to tell you and what

by Rosie Redux (not verified) on

you've been trying to understand for decades. I've been teaching Spanish and English as a Second Language composition for a million years and I can understand almost anything a learner is trying to say. Her Spanish is very awkward but she took a damn good shot at it. First she tells you in English that she's concerned your English is getting stilted now that you're in Iran and she's afraid you'll forget it. And then she says:

If you could learn Spanish then you could forget English and Persian and I could forget English and we could still speak together. OK? Great! I think this is the best way for us to do it.

On some level I believe she meant that even if it meant sacrificing both your native languages (in some sense your identities from birth), that it would be worth it as long as you could have a common identity together.

Anyway, you know something, upon re-reading your blog another parallel that struck me between your story and mine that is so strange is that the Persian man I was telling you about before, when he broke it off with me it was by e-mail actually. Isn't that bizarre that there are so many parallels? And the first thing he wrote was "How the hell did I get involved in this crap?" and I wrote that he was making a mistake by ending our relationship and he wrote briefly that we had none and that's when he said "Robin, darling, you're in la la land." He WAS very much to the point and it WAS all quite unambiguous...and after a brief exchange of e-mails he told me he wouldn't answer me again.

And you know, J., personally I really would've preferred getting a letter from him, even one like this, one so poorly written and half inSwahili than those few brief to the point e-mails. Especially one hand written. I somehow think I would've understood him anyway but it wouldn't have hurt quite so much. I do agree with you there, the old days of letter-writing certainly had their charm...

And btw I don't believe a word you said in the first paragraph about its not being so important, and I highly doubt you believe it either. Nor anyone else here with a grain of sense in theirfins in our little fishbowl.

She wants you to understand that she wants you to understand her so that she can understand herself and then hopefully understand you (see below, from a poster who called herself "some of you are so thick...")


Flying Solo


by Flying Solo on



Being There

by Global Voyeur #1 (not verified) on

I don’t know where to begin, so I begin at the end where the credits are rolling:


So, at this point someone is saying, “What’s the point of this video clip?” Well, the comedy movie “Being There” was released in 1979, the year of the Iranian Revolution, the year JJ went to Iran, I believe. That year was the beginning of the comedy of our lives. I just showed you how it could end, with Peter Sellers, the superbly talented British actor, not being able to say his line without laughing hysterically. As hilarious as the movie was, the end credit scene was even more hilarious than the rest of the movie.

So, moving back even more towards the middle of the movie, Chauncey Gardener, a simple-minded middle aged man has a sex scene with the wife of a USA senator who’s no longer capable of satisfying his wife sexually and sends her off to have sex with Chauncey. She ends up having one of her most sexually stimulating orgasm ever when she hopes for some sexual fulfillment with him, but a misunderstanding ensues when Chauncey tells her, "I like to watch.", meaning he wants to watch television, but she thinks he wants to watch her as she arouses herself. So while she is having one hell of a time he is nonchalantly watching television.

I don’t know, I just thought we like to watch too, but thirty years later it’s the Internet, iranian.com, that we like to watch.

Now, at this time some people are saying, “No, I’m not that voyeuristic.” No buddy, you’re not. Just relax and enjoy the show.


Oh god, this is getting REALLY good!

by Global Voyeur ##2 (not verified) on

Everybody's starting to argue!


We like to watch....it's a family "affair"...


Ali P.

To: Behnam Khazar Dearest

by Ali P. on

        Read my comment again please... and try not to miss the :-)'s.



Ali P.


Behnam khan

by IRANdokht on

Apparently you have no sense of humor.  Did you really miss the context or you just had a bone to pick with one of the nicest more civilized people on this site?


Behnam Khazar

Ali. P. Dearest

by Behnam Khazar on

How interesting you call people you don't agree with "FOOL"?  I guess you are not that much different from your counterparts in Iran who knife the opposition with Cha'gho e Zan'jaan!!


Dear Woman: but how come no one has bothered to mention...

by Other woman (not verified) on

how drop dead gorgeous the blogger was when he was a teen? No wonder he's still so cocky. (No pun intended, really...it just turned out that way).

Anyway, so what if a few innocent people's reputatins were irreparably destroyed? One must first destroy in order to create.

First it will be other people's reputations he destroys and then it will be his own.

And he will emerge triumphant like the Phoenix from the fires that purify. Just wait. U'll C.

the other woman


Bill Clinton!

by Killjoy (not verified) on

How about the world's most famous wronged party, Bill Clinton?

The lady involved spent only a few bucks on a pair of kneepads and got away rich and famous. As if everything had been planned!


I believe writing this was

by woman (not verified) on

I believe writing this was so wrong on so many levels.
I cannot even give myself permission to name names of the wronged parties across the world....


Breaking taboos!!

by farshadjon on

To Sourena and others:

In my opinion, JJ has chosen those photos and the whole article very carefully. All the photos are at least 30 years old. I could not recognize even JJ in the presented photos, and I needed to go back and look at his recent photos to find the similarities.

So I think, the whole article, timing for the publishing, and all the facts surrounding this story were carefully orchestrated. 

Kidding aside, you were hot in those days, JJ. One thing that I really like about you is that you do not scare to talk about taboos!! 

Majority of people do scare! And that is the main difference that distinguishes you from others.


Ali P.

Damn you Sourena!

by Ali P. on


There is always have to be some fool, raising the moral issue, and totally ruining it for me! :-)

Sourena does have a point, I have to admit. Who wants to have her sexual endeavour exposed all over the internet? (Well, some of us do, but maybe not on this site)

JJ , from what I have known him, is respectul of that point, usually. But given he only presented us with her first name, and the picture is 30 years old, and the audience here is almost all Iranian, chances of her being exposed, is slim to none.

Ali P.

Warning to all women: If you ever get intimate with JJ, expect the story be told here, minute by minute, 30 years from now.

That's right, all 2 minutes of it ;-)


You people just don't get it......

by some of you are so thick (not verified) on

Jahanshah is on a journey and he is searching his past and his soul and he wants to share it with you all so that he can become a realer person to all of you and not just a bunch of pixels with spectacles and an aquarium full of goldfish. He is trying to go beyond his usual style of photo essays to enter into the world of words which as he has told us many times is a very time-consuming challenge for him in order to portray the depths of his experience AS HE SEES IT as he comes to terms with his life history to prepare himself in his mature years to don the mantle of authority and be your leader and servant.

and here you are, criticizing the story, its content, was it interesting, did you like it, did it cause any possible public humilliation to anyone etc. as though these things mattered. You don't understand that it's not WHAT he told, it's WHY he told it.

You don't understand that he told it so you could understand him

so he could understand himself..and then possibly understand you...

you just don't understand.

you just don't get it, do you?

god you must be in la la land



Stereo Babes

by Having them Both (not verified) on

I think what happened JJ was that when the intrigue of the "naughtiness" wore off the second time around, and with the formation of a threesome it lost its excitement for you.

When I was in college I was dating a superhot tall slender blonde who had a twin sister whom I really could not tell apart. One day my girlfriend was planning to come over to my apartment after work at 9 pm. She showed up at 7 saying she got off early and wanted to go straight to bed. We did and had great sex although she seemed unusually quiet. I was almost asleep when my girlfriend walked in the bedroom door. It turns out I had just had sex with her twin sister.

My girlfriend was furious. She broke up with me for being so stupid and she was furious with her sister for taking advantage of my stupidity. I didn't have the heart to tell my girlfriend the sex was exactly the same. About a week later my girlfriend calls back and wants to get back together. Her sister had confessed that she was also in love with me and they decided to share. To show me what it would be like they wanted to come over and have a threesome. I replied "Heck no. If I am going to have a threesome I want the third person to be someone totally different. I don't want to be doing the same girl twice." (This is a true story.) LOL



by blogger in vacation (not verified) on

I think your blog sounds more like the expression of your disappointment, or anger.
You really didn't have to write this. It wasn't appropriate to write it, like your little revenge, to provoke - possibly -...but you might regret it one day. you should, I think.
Maybe the spell is gone, but it seems you're trying hard to break the rest. Please don't. keep the memories of your memories.
But I liked the writing though.


Does she know about the published story?

by sourena on

My moral issue with publishing this story is not like the others here. I guess as long as the husband and wife were ok with your intercourse there is nothing wrong there.

My issue is somewhere else: did you tell her about publishing the story online?
You have published her picture and everything. The couple might have been ok with the sexual affair you had, but they might not be comfortable everybody reading about it.


This is Global Voyeurism at its best

by Global Voyeurism (not verified) on

What I want to say is very relevant to this story, so please let it be published.

I once, in a span of a day, masturbated in three different capital cities. My journey began from Washington D.C. where I was so excited to be going back home that had become sexually arose, so before my departure from Dulles International Airport I went to their bathroom and relieved myself sexually. Several hours later I arrived in Amsterdam, capital city of Netherlands, with my next flight to Tehran being scheduled for six hours later. I was all exhausted, yet at the same time I was wide awake. I tried so desperately to get some shut eye to no avail. After walking around the terminal like a zombie for a couple of hours, I once again went to the bathroom and relieved myself. Having dissipated some of that sexual energy I was finally able to lay down on some seats and take a nap. A few hours later I was in Tehran, early hour in the morning local time. By the time I reached my place of rest two more hours had passed and I was once again exhausted and wide awake. Having learned from my experience in Amsterdam, I once again masturbated and went to sleep for the next twelve hours.

I was not aware of it at the time, since this happened a long time before “globalization” was a common word in people's daily vocabulary, but now that I look at it again I feel so privileged for what I did, hell yes, I might even be the first man to have done such a thing in the world, to go around that word and masturbate in three different capital cities within a day! That’s how small the world has become.

Who knew it? At no time in the history of mankind voyeurism has become so global! Many husbands in the world have done what Laura's husband did, but at no time in the history of mankind what he did has been published in an electronic media that is accessible instantly throughout the globe. I hope he gets to read the story and enjoy it even more than when it happened in that spell breaking day.



by femme (not verified) on

Fidelity, loyalty and horoning one's oaths rank high with me. Sorry, very dissapointing, and kinda boring.

Shazde Asdola Mirza

Moment Agha Moment

by Shazde Asdola Mirza on

JJ jaan:

Of course there is no pleasure or gratification in adultary with a Mrs whose hubby is ok with it! That guy's attitude has ruined everything for you, as the forbidden fruit of love turned into the mundane fruite of an open market bazaar.

Sorry about that, but my suggestion is to choice your liasons more carefully and to avoid the wives of relaxed husbands, or the ones with a shotgun!

Merry christmas,

 S.A.M (an official Khar Vazir)

Behnam Khazar

There are certain things

by Behnam Khazar on

There are certain things better remian untold!  Unless you have psychological needs to expose yourself!!

I am also surprised at all the positive responses to you expose, "Bravo", "Beautiful", "Wow", tells a lot about the pschic of your audience, bunch of voyeurs.

Jahanshah Javid

Fair enough

by Jahanshah Javid on

Thanks flying low. I don't mind if it's not my best writing. I know I'm not a writer. That's why I blog, just to pour out whatever's on my mind without worrying about the literary value of it.

Why do I kiss and tell? If this is indeed kiss and tell, my intention is to tell the truth from my point of view. I can only write about real events, not made up things in the form of fiction. I love the truth more than anything and besides I think real lives are much more interesting than fiction.

If my true stories reveal arrogance, stupidity, lustfulness, cruelty or any other weakness, so be it.