Narisa 4B

Narisa 1
By: C. Stanton Leman

Chapter 4

As Narisa and I walked the few steps from the living room to what
would now become our bedroom she began to tremble. I gently
gave her shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze as I opened the
bedroom door.

She gave a sudden start when I opened the door and she saw the bed.
I gently led her inside, closed the door and we came to a stop next to
the bed near the bathroom doorway. She stopped, turned and looked
up at me with questioning, tearful eyes when I remembered
something I'd forgotten.

I snapped my fingers as one does when they realize they've forgotten
something, turned and left my puzzled bride standing alone in the
room. When I suddenly reappeared in the hall, Mom asked, "What's
wrong?"

"Forgot some towels." and quickly grabbed three out of the closet.
"Where are your hair dryer and a brush?" I asked hurriedly.

“On my dresser."

I scrambled to my parents room, grabbed what I needed and quickly
scooted back to my perplexed little wife. I startled her when I rushed
through the door panting from my hurried search.

She looked at me quizzically then nodded as I held up the towels,
hair dryer and brush. I smiled at her and taking her hand led her to
the bathroom. I closed the lid on the toilet, motioned for her to sit
and set the towels down on the sink.

Narisa sat warily as I began to draw her bath. By the look on her face,
I think she was expecting that I might undress and bathe her and she
started to look uncomfortable. I motioned for her to test the water
temperature with her hand and as she did, she nodded that it was
okay.

I showed her the soap and shampoo, making motions that simulated
washing my hair and pointed to the bottle. She nodded her
understanding and I showed her the conditioner and made gestures
that showed removing tangles from hair and she nodded again.
When I thought she had everything she needed, I rose, smiled and
touched her cheek with my hand and she looked up with a relieved
smile. I walked to the bathroom door and smiled back again as I shut
the door to let her bathe in private.

I went back out to the living room and plopped down in the chair.
My parents looked at me then each other and then back at me again
totally clueless. I felt their eyes on me and looked at them both and
asked, "What?"

"Why are you out here?" My dad asked with a raised eyebrow. "Is
everything okay?"

"So far I guess. Just letting the little woman take a bath. Why?"

They both looked at each other as if to say, "That sounds logical."

"You usually bathe after the big event," Dad quipped with a smirk.

"Steven!" Mom scolded as she slapped his arm.

"Well," I replied, "to be honest, I haven't thought that far ahead. I
was going to dry and brush her hair and after that… Well, I don't have
a freakin' clue! I'll just play it by ear and see how she reacts. I think
she's really scared - on the verge of terrified - and to tell the truth, so
am I. You were right Dad: us guys really don't know what to do with
a girl when we get one. I'm scared and I know she's scared so I think
I'll just try to be her friend, then her boyfriend in slow easy stages
then we can work our way up to the good stuff together when we're
both comfortable with each other. She's already been stripped naked
and terrorized in the past couple of days and I really want her to
know I won't hurt or take advantage of her, that I'll protect her. Isn't
that what a husband's supposed to do?"

Mom eyes welled up and nodded while Dad nodded saying, "You
make us proud, Son. That sounds like an excellent plan to me."

"By the way," I asked contemplatively, "what does the name Narisa
mean?"

Mom smiled and answered, "It means exquisite. A fitting name don't
you think?"

"She's so beautiful she takes my breath away, but she's so darn tiny!
Every time I look at her I forget she's thirteen: she looks ten or
eleven."

At this point, some may think I'm acting like an unrealistically naïve,
stupid teenage-boy when it comes to girls and sex, but I'm not. Most
guys talk a lot about girls and sex but that's all it is: just talk. We
stammer when talking to a girl we find interesting, and young
couples struggle through those first fledgling steps to hold hands, for
their first kiss and embrace and finally the awkward fumbling,
sometimes hurtful mistakes of our first sexual encounters. In my
situation, I was now married to a girl and she was my responsibility.

First of all, all I'd ever done was make out. Attempting to cop a feel
driven by raging hormonal moments, not thinking of the
responsibility of one's actions, marriage or even the next thirty
minutes is totally different when you realize that your wife is
someone that is depending on you to treat her above all others in the
world for a lifetime. I was terrified of what lay ahead: not just the sex
or sleeping together but what we'd been through and survived.
Would she be so scared by all this that she just can't be a wife right
now- just a scarred, terrified little girl?

We heard the water stop running in the shower so I waited a couple
of minutes before going to her. As I rose to leave I said, "Well here
goes, wish me luck."

~~~

Looking back on this moment, I can put it all in perspective, but at
the time, I felt so torn with mixed emotions that I was suddenly filled
with guilt. Let me explain. Have you ever felt diametrically opposing
thoughts and emotions at the same time? Almost like you've got an
angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other and they're both
shouting to you at the same time. Your reasoning brain, the one that
feels love, emotion, caring, concern, empathy and all the other
emotions related to the higher brain as it expresses all these "higher"
emotions while the lower brain, the one that thinks with the "little
head" is talking to you at the same time. Here's what I mean…

When I entered the bedroom and closed the door, Narisa was
standing by the bed with just a towel wrapped around her. She had a
look of sheer fright in her eyes. I stood frozen in the doorway silent,
just looking at her for fear of moving and scaring her even more. She,
probably thinking that I was expectantly waiting for the unveiling,
tentatively turned around with her back to me and slowly dropped
her towel to her feet.

She placed her left hand down between her legs to cover her groin
and her right hand went across her chest. She then looked back at
me over her shoulder and she was practically pleading with me with
her eyes and tears pouring down her cheeks.

All of a sudden, I was struck with a shocking jolt of deja vu as I
remembered seeing her in this same exact position just days before
encircled by a group of taunting men who had humiliated her right
before trying to execute her.

At the same time, the little head was telling my brain, Oh my God!
She's the most stunning and beautiful creature I've ever seen! Huge
dark-brown expressive eyes; her long, black curly hair was wet and
hanging over her slender shoulder showing a small shell-like ear and
her naked form just caused a hot flash to come over me as my eyes
were drawn, riveted to her beautiful firm little butt. Her feet were so
tiny and her legs were shapely with nicely tapered slender thighs.
She was a miniature goddess! And… she was my wife!!!!

All these conflicting thoughts scrambled my brain in those five or ten
seconds we stood there frozen in time. I was suddenly snapped back
to reality when I had a sudden and sick feeling of guilt for having
thoughts of her that way when she was so vulnerable and terrified at
this same moment in time.

As I stared at her, I could see several cuts where she's been struck
with stones and she had a painful looking bruise on her right
shoulder and one on her lower back right above her left hip. The
memories of that fateful day came suddenly flooding back to me.

I saw her dirty clothes on the floor near the chair and a light bulb
went off in my head when it dawned on me that she had no clean
clothes to put on. I put my finger to my mouth making the universal
sign to be calm. I walked to my dresser and pulled out a Patriots t-
shirt and slowly walked towards her. When I'd stopped directly
behind her, she hunched over sobbing so that I couldn't look over
her shoulder and view her nakedness then looked up at me over her
left shoulder in raw fear. I smiled gently and stroked her cheek then
kissed her left temple. I bunched up the t-shirt and pulled it over her
head then down over her body encasing her arms inside. The t-shirt
came down and barely covered her dainty little derriere. Grabbing
the sleeves and shaking them gesturing for her to put her arms
through the sleeves, she slowly complied one arm at a time. As she
pushed her arms through the sleeves I gently bunched up her hair in
my hands and pulled it out of the neck hole of the shirt.

I went into the bathroom looking for her panties, returned to the
bedroom next to the chair and picked up her soiled abaya to check
underneath but there were none: they must have just dressed her in
just an abaya and hajib for the trial with nothing underneath. She'd
stopped crying and was following my every move with her eyes as
she wiped her cheeks with her hands and a slightly calmer look on
her face.

Remaining with her back to me still covering her sex with her left
hand, she followed me with her eyes as I went to the dresser and
retrieved a pair of my boxer shorts. I returned to stand directly
behind her and knelt down putting my arms around to the front of
her legs and stretched the pair of boxers open for her to step into.

Once again, the little head took over when I realized my face was
right next to her naked, gorgeous little hiney and when I
momentarily glanced at the sight I saw two smooth, hairless labia
peeking at me from between her legs right under her derriere. I
shook that lusty thought with a quick, mental slap to the face and
nudged her on the leg for her to step into the underwear. She daintily
pointed her toes as she put her left foot into the garment followed by
her right. When she'd finished stepping into them, I slowly pulled
them up her legs and under the t-shirt.

When the waistband reached her tiny waist, I let go and dropped my
hands. We both laughed when we both realized that her waist was so
tiny, they started to fall to the floor. In an effort to preserve her
modesty, I stopped them from falling by inadvertently putting my
right hand directly on her left butt cheek. I looked up embarrassed
and she smiled down and blushed.

"Mom!!!"

I don't know what Mom thought because when the door flew open,
she rushed in like someone was dying. I was still on my knees
with my hand on my wife's tiny, shapely derriere looking like the kid
that got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"What… Oh my!"

"It's not what you think Mom! Narisa doesn't have any panties!
Could she possibly fit into a pair of yours for tonight? Oh, and get me
a safety pin too," I blurted out.

"Sure." she joked in relief. "Anything for the newlyweds." She turned
and left to retrieve the items.

Narisa had now taken hold of the shorts and giggled as I sat up on
the bed. Mom was having some fun with this because when she
returned, she handed me the panties between thumb and forefinger
along with the pin and smiled. As she was turning to leave, she
winked at Narisa and started for the door when I stopped her saying,
"Oh, and her abaya: it's soiled, remember?" She leaned over
nodding, picked up the dirty garment and left closing the door gently
behind her with a click

Embarrassed and blushing, I just handed Narisa the panties without
looking at her and motioned for the bathroom. She giggled and
scampered into the bathroom and shut the door. Moments later she
returned and handed me the shorts with a shy smile.

I wanted her to feel more comfortable so I bent over and again
opened the shorts for her to step into. She obeyed and when I began
to pull them up, she lifted the t-shirt to show me her panty-clad
vulva: and a beautiful pink-laced, panty-clad vulva it was!

Of course you dork: any panty-clad, thirteen-year-old vulva is
beautiful! Besides, it's the only one you've ever seen!

I bunched up the waistband enough to hold them up comfortably yet
loose enough for her to pull them down and pinned it to fit her waist.

I know a New England Patriots t-shirt and a pair of alligator boxers isn't
what you'd call the perfect wedding trousseau, but she probably
thought they were as good as a Victoria Secret's silk negligee.

The little head spoke again when I looked up and saw the tiny sharp
points of her puffy little nipples poking straight out of her t-shirt.

God, the Patriots never looked that good!

She saw me looking at her proud, pretty little buds, giggled and
blushed. I blushed also as I stood and turned to hide my growing
appreciation for my petite bride's charms.

I gentlemanly excused myself and scooted into the bathroom and
quickly shut the door with a "Whew!"

I was trying to get my woody under control when Hasan's words
came naughtily zipping into my head. Ah, to be between the slender
thighs of a dark haired, doe-eyed nubile Iranian girl…

"Stop it!" I scolded myself as I painfully squeezed my erection. I
started the water in the sink, grabbed the washcloth and wrung it out
in the cold water. I dropped my drawers and wrapped up my
"problem" and gasped at the temperature shock. Once my woody had
turned to sawdust, I pulled up my shorts and splashed my face with
cold water trying to return to my giggling bride looking calm, cool
and un-erected. When I'd dried my face, I still looked a little flush
but figured that it was time to face the little woman. Otherwise she
probably thought I took my problem "in hand". Well I did… sort of.

I opened the door and entered the bedroom trying to look as cool as
the Fonz and she was standing by the bed where I'd left her with her
hands at her sides fumbling with the tail of her shirt. I started to get
in bed but then realized I was still dressed. She giggled when she
realized I was just as scared as she was and was about to get in bed
fully clothed.

All right, so I'm not the Fonz.

I went to the chair winced in pain as I unbuttoned my shirt and very gingerly removed it. She gasped when I turned to lay it over the chair and she saw the stripes on my back. I kicked off my shoes and leaned against the chair as I took off my socks. I unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my pants and with a sigh, dropped them to the floor. I laid the jeans in
the chair and turned to look at her standing only in my boxers. With
a hand covered smile she blushed then covered her eyes.

Well, I thought, tonight is the first night of our lives…

I walked towards her side of the bed, bent and pulled back the duvet
on her side of the bed and motioned for her to lie down. She sat
down and slowly pulled her legs up underneath the covers and laid
down on her back looking up at me but now, with a calm, but
apprehensive smile. I covered her and walked to the other side and
climbed in.

Oops, her hair is still wet you hormonally-charged idiot!

I got out of bed (again) and she quizzically looked at me like "What's
this nut going to do now?"

I grabbed her hand as I pulled the covers back down and motioned
for her to get up. I retrieved the brush and hair dryer and held them
up and she nodded. She got up, sat on the edge of the bed and turned
with one leg under her and the other dangling off the side of the bed.

I turned on the dryer and began to brush her hair as the hot air
whipped her hair in a windblown acrobatic dance. After about ten
minutes her hair was reasonably dry and I shut off the dryer and
just began to slowly run the brush through her curly, shimmering
tresses. I played with her hair as I ran the brush and my fingers
through her soft hair and she relaxed and reveled in the attention.

When I'd finished, I motioned for her to lie back down and she
responded slowly but calmly by lying down on her back and
followed me with her eyes as I again went to the other side of the
bed. I climbed in (for the last time, I hoped) laying on my right side
because of my back and we just looked at each other as if to
simultaneously ponder what now?

Darn! The light is still on, you dufus!

I reached across her body and looked into her eyes as I fumbled for
the light switch on the lamp. I don't know why, but I felt a sudden,
warm feeling of affection for her and bent down and gave her a soft,
closed-mouth kiss on the lips that lasted for several seconds. We
looked into each other's eyes during this, our first kiss and hers were
wide with surprise but she didn't pull away. When I broke the kiss
we both blushed and smiled at each other as I turned out the light.

We lay there in deafening silence for several minutes: she on her
back with her hands fumbling at her sides and me on my right side
with my right arm under the pillow and my left hand resting on my
hip. I could feel the softness of her lower leg against mine and the
velvety smoothness of her tiny foot.

We suddenly seemed to be of one heart and mind when the terrible
events of the past five days came flooding back. Five days ago, we
each were living separate lives not knowing the other existed.
Because of Fate or perhaps the Will of God, we were brought together
by a sudden violent act, arrested, jailed and sentenced to death only
to now be lying here together, miraculously alive and married to one
another. We knew nothing of the other except each other's name and
now, having made a lifelong commitment to each other to share each
other's future we both lay here contemplating the same events!

Having come to the realization that we'd come to death's doorstep
only to be drawn back to continue living changes a person's life
forever. Everything seems so much more precious, our decisions and
actions having more meaning and are more focused and thought-out.
The impetuousness of youth with which we lived our carefree lives,
sometimes oblivious of the dangers around the corner was now a
thing of the past. Every step we took from this day forward would
have to be together, each knowing that any actions or decisions we
made would directly affect our mate.

Narisa started crying and reached up to my hip and taking my hand
in hers squeezed it as we sobbed together. I let go of her hand and
she laid it down on my hip as I reached up and tenderly stroked her
cheek. I gently wiped away her tears with my thumb and whispered,
"Shushhhh, it's okay now."

I leaned over and gently kissed her cheek and she nodded she
understood and her crying diminished to sniffled weeping. When she
was relatively calm, I gently nudged her left shoulder, motioning her
to turn onto her right side. Silently she responded and I spooned up
against her and she reached for my hand and holding it firmly
clutched it to her chest. I gave her a reassuring hug and she relaxed
in my arms in response.

I just held her in silence as we struggled to go to sleep. I began to
think about how we were ever going to make this work? In her
culture and faith, she had committed herself to me of her own
volition and simply by allowing me to see her nudity and lying with
me constituted consummation of her wedding vows. In her eyes and
the eyes of other Muslims she was a married woman in name and
deed. If we divorced in the U.S., what would her fate be as a minor in
a foreign country, divorced and all alone?

Hell, we couldn't even communicate with each other except through
gestures: how would we get to know each other; plan our lives,
discuss our desires, feelings and fears? How could we even say the
simplest of things like "Good Morning," "Are you hungry" or "Let's
take a walk"? How will we ever go about expressing those heartfelt
endearments boyfriends and girlfriends express that have even more
meaning for spouses like "I missed you," or "I was thinking about
you" and the all important "I love you"?

I knew in my heart that I felt something very deep and gentle for this
girl in my arms. Is this the beginnings of love? I know for certain it's
different - way different from what I felt for Nicole. It's deeper,
more moving and affected me to my core. It's quiet, gentle and
protective; this feeling made me want to put her welfare first - no,
compelled me to think of her first and it was suddenly like second
nature. She's put her life and future in my hands and with a child-
like faith hoping that I'd take care of her and fulfill those childhood
dreams of finding a man that would love, cherish and protect her for
life. Then again, I didn't really know what she actually felt.

As I lay thinking, I felt Narisa's grip on my hand relax as she held it
to her chest and I felt her breathing slow as her chest began the slow,
gentle expansion and contraction as slumber overtook her.

As I lay there awake, I heard the click of the doorknob and the sliver
of light widened as the bedroom door slowly opened. I didn't move
but glanced to see my parents looking in on us and heard Mom
whisper to Dad, "Aw look they're sleeping. Maybe, just maybe they'll
be okay after all."

"God only knows." my father whispered back, "I truly hope so too."

~~~

I awoke about six and we were both in the same position we'd
fallen asleep in. She was gently clutching my hand to her chest with me
spooned up against her back, but with one "big" difference. My now
fully-engorged morning woody was neatly wedged between her
dainty little butt cheeks. I decided to pretend it wasn't there and
feigned being asleep. I think she awoke about the same time and
when she felt me against her butt, she perceptively gasped and
remained still. She slowly and tentatively pushed her butt back
against my erection (giving me a tingle) and mewed a little giggle
confirming she knew what she was feeling.

Gently and quietly she moved my hand and slowly got out of bed.
She went to the bathroom and after peeing and washing came in,
knelt and quietly began her morning prayers.

She knelt on the floor with her right side facing me as she rocked and
whispered her invocations. I rose up and put my head in bent arm's
palm just to watch her pray. I felt an affinity to her and rose out of
bed and knelt beside her. She momentarily stopped and looked at me
with a gentle smile then returned to her prayers. I began to pray with
her and after a few minutes rose, got my things and went to the
bathroom for my morning shower, leaving her to finish her prayers
in peace.

When I came out of the bathroom, she was sitting on the bed just
looking at me. Not knowing what she was thinking, I shrugged as if
to ask, "What?"

She blushed and grabbed the hem of the t-shirt and jostled it and
looked at me through her lashes as if to say, "Is this what I'm
wearing today?"

I nodded my understanding and left the bedroom in my boxers.
Mom looked at me over her coffee cup from the table and asked,
"Lose something?"

"No, just looking for Narisa's dress, did you wash it for her?"

Nodding, she pointed to the closet where it was hanging from a
hook: I'd walked right past it. I snatched it from the hook and turned
to leave saying over my shoulder, "Thanks, Ma."

I walked into the bedroom smiling and handed the abaya to her as
she stood to take it from my hand. She looked at me deciding
whether to change where she stood or go to the bathroom. She
glanced at the bathroom door and I nodded as I turned to get my
clothes from the dresser. When she came out dressed and barefoot, I
wiggled my finger to her with a smile to come sit down on the bed.

I picked up the brush and she got a sparkle in her eye and smiled
knowing I was going to brush her hair. I played Vidal Sassoon as I
brushed her hair this way and that, first parting it down the middle
then at the side with a sweeping wave over her right eye. She giggled,
made funny faces and fussed with her hands in her lap as I played
with her hair. She started to get embarrassed by my antics and fell
back lying on the bed with her legs dangling off the edge of the bed. I
dropped the brush and grabbed both her tiny feet in my hands and
she rose up on her elbows looking down to see what I was doing. I
brought her feet to my nose and sniffed making a sour face and said
"Phew!"

She smiled and wiggling her toes pushed them back into my face. I
made playful monster-type growls and began licking her feet and
toes. She broke out laughing as she squirmed on the bed to free
herself from my tickling assault. I stopped my tickling and she rose
up again panting from the exertion looking down at me with a smile.
I kissed the tops of her feet and released them. I stood up and took
her hand lifting her to her feet and we went out to face a new day.

Mom fixed us a breakfast of eggs and toast. Mom told Narisa that her
socks weren't worth saving and had thrown them away. She told us that
after we went to the Swiss embassy, we'd go shopping and buy her
some new clothes. My little bride went bug-eyed with surprise on
hearing this.

When we were ready to leave, I knocked on Hasan's door and he
opened it with smile and a wink. I jokingly threatened him saying,
"Don't even think about it."

He chuckled and nodded knowing what I meant. Dad grabbed the
folder of papers he'd gotten from Nazir and Hasan and Sharif
brought the minibus around for us to leave.

We arrived at the Swiss embassy about ten and after informing
them who we were and asked to speak to the Consul for American
Affairs, we were directed to Hans Fischer who was expecting us.
After the introductions, he informed us that they were aware of some
of the events that transpired and both they and the State Department
were eager to expedite the handling of our case.

After Dad retold what Nazir had told him regarding the cause of this
whole situation, how and why the Special Clerical Council and the
Iranian government had become involved along with their unique
"solution" of the matter, Mr. Fischer asked to see what documents
we were provided with so far.

Narisa and I had to both make taped statements under oath of the
events, as we each knew them. After four hours of discussion and
testimony, Mr. Fischer told us we still needed to obtain a certified
copy of Narisa's birth certificate, her passport with exit permit and a
notarized affidavit giving guardianship and power of attorney to one
or both of my parents for Narisa from her parents. Even though she
was a married adult here in Iran, in the U.S. she was still a minor as
was I. Because our marriage was conducted by a court and
recognized by the government of Iran, it was a legal marriage in the
eyes of the Federal government under INS regulations. He did say
that not knowing anything about individual state's laws, it might not
be recognized in Virginia without going through the courts because
we were both under the age of consent: which Dad said was sixteen.
Any marriage with minors below that age had to get special
permission from the court.

The Iranian court had already furnished a copy of her police record
and her conviction on prostitution and Hans said that it posed no
hindrance because of the publicized circumstances of the case. They
also included a statement that included the terms of our conviction
commutations with a letter stating that she would be issued a
passport and an exit permit under the condition that neither of us
returned to Iran. She would receive an INS physical and any shots
needed here at the Swiss embassy.

He told us that he was in communication and working in
conjunction with Stanley Wiseman, an Assistant Secretary of State, to
expedite matters. As soon as we had all the required documents, we
were to return and have Narisa's passport affixed with an emergency
visa granting her political asylum based upon the threat of possible
death or imprisonment from a hostile country.

He told us that today after we leave, he'd send all our information via
encoded teletype and our recorded testimonies via diplomatic
courier to Washington to get things moving. He also informed us
that more than likely, we would be met at the airport by members of
the State Department because the press will be lying in wait when we
arrive. They will help us handle the press and any statements so that
nothing is said that could possibly cause any more flak over this
issue.

As we were getting ready to leave, Hans warned us that this wasn't
over yet. If we couldn't get her passport and birth certificate, it could
seriously delay things: no one leaves Iran without either an exit
permit or an entry/exit stamp. We thanked him for all his help and
left, knowing what we needed to do. I asked Dad to give me our
marriage license. I wasn't about to have another run-in with the
police if they stopped us thinking a young Muslim girl was walking in
public with young foreigner.

We went to lunch near a large shopping bazaar and after we ate, we
went shopping for Narisa's clothes. Mom and she picked out some
underwear, socks and two sets of traditional garb: one in black and
one in blue. They then bought some personal toiletries and feminine
hygiene items along with a shower cap. She even got a new pair of
sneakers. Mom secretly bought her several silk headscarves in case
she decided to dress less traditionally in the US.

During our first day together outside as a couple, we seemed to be
able to communicate with our eyes, facial expressions and hand
gestures. It was as if we just knew what the other was "saying."

As Narisa and I were browsing over some trinkets looking for a
hairbrush and hairpins, a stern looking morality cop grabbed her. I quickly showed him our marriage license and with a nasty scowl,
he turned and walked away. Figuring we'd bought what we came for,
we headed towards home. We decided to end the day out so we
went to dinner at a restaurant close to home before ending our day.
I could see the satisfaction in Narisa's eyes and it made her feel really
good to put that cop in his place.

When we arrived home, we said goodnight to our guides and went
inside. Like all girls when they get new clothes, Narisa quickly ran to
the bedroom with her bags. I just shrugged my shoulders at my
parents. Mom chuckled and said, "She probably wants to model
her new clothes for you."

Sure enough, she emerged to model for me what she'd gotten even
though they were traditional clothes: one black and one blue with a
white hajib. Then she showed me the socks and put on her new
sneakers as she watched Mom dump her old tattered and dirty ones
into the trash.

After the excitement of the day had worn thin, we said goodnight and
retired to our little retreat. She hurriedly padded to the bathroom
with a bag in hand and with a giggle and shut the door. As I sat on
the bed taking my shoes and socks off, the door sprang open and she
stood in the doorway for a second, cocked her hip and pulled her
abaya open just enough to flash me a pair of her new powder blue
laced panties. She blushed, giggled and quickly went back inside only
to return seconds later to briefly flash another pair to model. This
display of wifely teasing repeated itself several more times until she'd
exhausted her new wardrobe of panties.

She came out of the bathroom with a full pink flushed color as she
blushed and walked past me to the chair. She picked up her t-shirt
and boxers and glanced at me through her lashes as she padded back
to the bathroom. I heard the shower start and just chuckled. Go
figure… Mom had bought her several nightgowns but she wanted
what I'd given her on our wedding night.

I was lying in bed in the same spot and position I was in last night when
she opened the door and came to bed. She was acting a little strange
at first. She stood by the bed for several moments without moving
looking at me. Without taking her eyes off of me she slowly pulled
back the covers and climbed into bed, lying on her back like last
night. She started to reach for the light, but quickly pulled her hand
back and looked at me coyly.

I smiled when I thought to myself the language of love can surely be
spoken without words. I made no pretense of turning off the light. I
just leaned over and kissed her. She brought her right hand up and
laid it against my chest as we kissed and she just seemed to melt.

I didn't trust myself to stop if I got too worked up and I wasn't sure
what Narisa was ready for, so I broke the kiss. She licked her lips
dreamily and seeing she was agreeable, I kissed her again, this time
pressing my tongue to swipe her lips. Her eyed opened wide with
surprise then she relaxed and parted her mouth slightly. I licked the
front of her teeth and withdrew and she followed suit. I broke the
kiss because I was getting hot rather quickly and didn't want to do
something I'd regret.

When I pulled back about six inches we were looking directly into
each other's eyes. She had a dreamy look in her eyes as she breathed
audibly through her nose. I smiled at her and she smiled back as I
bent and kissed her nose. She scrunched up her nose and giggled.
God, she's got beautiful shining, expressive eyes! I leaned over,
turned out the light and like habit she turned onto her side. I
spooned up against her and she took my hand and laid it on her right
breast.

I couldn't help myself - the devil made me do it - but I gave her tiny
puffy nipple a gentle squeeze. She playfully slapped my hand and
giggled and I returned the gesture with a kiss to her neck. It was a
tender ending to a good first day as husband and wife and it wasn't
long before we both fell asleep in each other's embrace.

The following morning after breakfast, Mom, Dad and I had sort of a
heated discussion. Narisa's head just swiveled from one person to
the other as we argued whether or not it was safe for just Narisa and
me to go anywhere alone without my parents being with us. Maybe I
just wanted make a show with the police, but consciously I just
wanted to show off my wife. I kind of wanted to rub in the fact that they
forced us to marry, but now she was quickly becoming the light of my life. Anyway, my parents were a little leery but caved in to my demand and Hasan agreed to go and translate. And so off we went: an American teen with his tiny Persian Princess to the central police station. We
definitely got some stares as we entered and stated our business. I
showed them the documents from the court and they took Narisa's
photo when we applied for her passport. They instructed us to return
in three days to pick up her passport and exit permit along with a
certified copy of her birth certificate. We only had nine days left on
our visas.

Hasan, Narisa and I left the central police station and went to
Narisa's home. My parents were supposed to arrive later. Her
mother, Juwan and her brother Rafi were excited to see her. Juwan
said that Nazir, Narisa's father was at the station. She sent Rafi to
fetch his father saying the station was about eight blocks from here.

When Rafi left, Narisa and her mom were talking in the kitchen
while preparing refreshments for us and seemed to be talking
privately. They'd forgotten about Hasan's presence and seemed to be
talking of things of the boudoir. Here's how the conversation went as
Hasan whispered his translation.

"Well daughter, what's your husband like?"

"Oh mother, he's so kind and gentle and caring. He treats me like I'm
a princess! His family even bought me all new clothes."

"That's wonderful! Has he taken you? Is he a considerate lover?"

"Ah no, we really haven't done anything yet."

"No? Does he not find you attractive"

"I believe so; he's very affectionate towards me. On our wedding
night, he saw my nipples through my shirt and his penis became very
erect and large, but he ran to the bathroom and when he returned it
had receded. Every morning I feel his manhood pressed against my
bottom and it makes my stomach flutter and I feel all tingly inside.
He loves to brush and play with my hair. He also likes my feet for
some reason. He's always tickling, licking and kissing my toes. It's
fun and he makes me laugh. He's not like Muslim men, Momma: he
pampers me and makes me feel special"

"Does he excite you?"

"Insha Allah! When he looks at me with those deep blue eyes I get
wetness between my legs and want to melt! His kisses are tender and
soft and his lips are like honey! We've even touched tongues!"

"There, you see my child? Allah has chosen for you a special blessing
and a true love. If he hasn't touched you yet, he must be a shy boy?"

"Yes mother, I believe so. He's very kind and I think he's afraid to
hurt or upset me. He seems to know my heart and my feelings.
Whenever I'm frightened or fearful, he just holds me tenderly and
showers me with gentle kisses and it makes me feel all warm and
safe inside. He can speak to me with his eyes and his smile tells me
he understands my heart."

"Do you think he loves you?"

"I think he does. I mean he looks at me sometimes with deep
emotion and I think he wants to be intimate with me, but maybe he's
a little afraid that I might not be ready. It's strange but we seem to
always be feeling the same things. We still struggle with what we've
been through but he's strong, Momma: he's strong for himself and
for me. It gets better every day. He's very protective of me: more
than Papa!"

"Has he touched you intimately? Would you accept his advances?"

"I think so (giggles). He squeezed my nipple once but it so suddenly
surprised me, I playfully slapped his hand. I think he understood
that I wasn't offended."

"What did he do?"

"He kissed my neck then cuddled me to sleep. He holds me to sleep
every night and sometimes in his sleep, he presses his hard penis
against my bottom."

"Is his manhood large?"

"I think so, but I haven't seen it. It sure feels big pressed against me."

"Hmmm, maybe you should make a gesture towards him. That is if
you're ready."

"I'm not sure Momma. I have a feeling deep down inside that I
should trust him on this matter, He always seems to know what I'm
thinking and feeling and I know he'd never ever hurt me. When he's
ready, I know I'll be also. But then, if my desire grows as it has been,
I may find the courage to give myself to him. Does that make sense?"

"It makes perfect sense. So you trust him, yes? The basis of a lifelong
and enduring love is built on trust. It's good that you trust him. It is a
blessing that you have been joined to this foreigner. We hear a lot of
Western men are more expressive, affectionate and loving towards
their wives than most Muslim men. You know a Muslim man would
have taken you the first night and had his pleasure. He has already
attempted to lay down his life for you and obviously cares deeply for
you. Are you in love with him?"

"Oh Momma, I have never been so happy in all my life! On our
wedding night I was so frightened and scared because it was like
reliving all the horror of that day in the street. He let me bathe in
private and when he saw I had no clothes to wear, he clothed me and
took away my fears. He didn't force himself on me; he just held me
and made me feel protected and safe. Yes I love him. I love him with
all my heart!"

"Then I'll have peace. When you leave, I'll never see your face again
but I can die happy knowing that you are loved and have the life I've
always dreamed for you."

'Oh, Momma, I'm going to miss you so much! I'll miss Papa and Rafi
too; but you are my mother and also like my sister and friend. I will
never forget you or what you have taught me."

"Just give me a blue-eyed grandchild and I'll be happy beyond
measure!

"My in-laws also treat me with love. Mother-in-law calls me
daughter."

"Then go to her as you would me. Trust in her as you would me and
listen to her words. She will be a good teacher in America and your
new life."

"Thank you, Momma. I will."

"Now, let's get these refreshments to your husband. He's waiting
patiently for us."

"Yes, Momma."

I was so moved by the conversation, I started to cry and got up and
walked outside to compose myself. Hasan followed quickly and I
think when Narisa saw Hasan, she realized that Hasan had probably
translated the entire conversation. Outside, Hasan rubbed my
shoulder and said, "Like I said, a beautiful amorous woman,
beautiful babies: what more does a man need?"

I looked at him with a tearful smile and answered, "Not a damn
thing!"

We hugged in the universal "guy" way and went back inside. Smiling,
we re-entered the house. Narisa and her mother stood in the living
room holding trays of refreshments: silent, as if waiting for a sign.

I looked at my tiny bride, smiled gently and professed, "I love you my
little Persian Princess. I love you more than you'll ever know!"

Juwan gave me a tearful Mona Lisa smile and Narisa "Eeek'ed", set
the tray down and leapt into my arms. I lifted her up hugging her
tiny frame, rocking her back and forth with her feet about a foot off
the floor. Just then, Nazir and Rafi walked in the door. Nazir was
surprised at the scene and cleared his throat with a smiling
noticeable cough. Rafi just had his usual cheese-eating grin.

We sat and had started drinking tea when my parents arrived. Narisa
scampered off to the kitchen like a flitting little hummingbird to
bring more refreshments for her new family. We updated Nazir and
Juwan on how everything was going so far regarding obtaining the
needed documents for Narisa's departure and entry into the U.S.
Nazir said that because of the publicized political nature of our case,
we wouldn't have any problems: they wanted us gone as bad as we
wanted to leave.

He asked Dad to come by the station tomorrow and he would give
him the guardianship papers and power of attorney. Mom asked him
to make her Narisa's guardian because if we went before the court to
obtain a marriage license, she could sign for Narisa and Dad would
sign for me. Nazir pointed out that normally a woman wouldn’t be allowed such rights, but with them leaving the country and the government wouldn’t see the document, they agreed.

Mom then asked if Hasan and Rafi could take a walk for a while
because she wanted to discuss a private matter with Narisa's parents,
Narisa and me. Rafi grabbed his football and they played it cool like it
was their idea to go to the park.

Once we were alone, Mom began her discussion.

"I know this matter may seem very private to Josh and Narisa, and it
isn't something that's normally discussed with parents, but I
think we should discuss it and get everyone's opinion. Here in Iran,
Narisa is a legally married adult woman and Josh is a legally married
adult male, but in the U.S., they are considered children and
underage minors. As such, they cannot sign a contract, register for
school or even consent to get medical treatment.

"Even though they have a valid marriage recognized by the U.S.
government, in Virginia where we will live, their marriage may not
be recognized as valid. We will petition the court for special
permission to allow them to marry there. I think it would be wise,
and it would show the court that both our children approach their
marriage in a mature and adult manner if Narisa remained a virgin,
which can be verified by a doctor until they are married in the U.S."

Narisa's parents looked a little shocked by the content of my
mother's statement. Narisa and I looked at each other and blushed
as the adults sat in uncomfortable silence.

Mom leaned forward to break the impasse by continuing,

"I know this subject probably comes as a shock to you but I have my
reasons. Unfortunately in the U.S., kids their age are having casual
sex. If Josh and Narisa have already consummated their marriage by
actual intercourse, the judge may think that he's being asked to grant
permission for two underaged teens simply to freely have sex with all
its ramifications and consequences. Usually, these marriages are
only granted when the girl is pregnant and they permit it for the sake
of the baby.

“If they can show restraint, they prove to the judge that
they are committed to each other in all the other ways and not just
controlled by hormones, there's a better chance he'll approve it. I
think we should anticipate any grounds on which the judge might be
inclined to refuse and disaprove them as a moot point. We as adults
are well aware that they're able to give and receive each other
pleasure by other means until this is resolved.

"Besides, there's also the issue of pregnancy. If Narisa gets pregnant
at her age, it could seriously hamper their education, careers and
possibly their lives."

Nazir looked at Juwan with a concerned sigh and made a smirk as if
contemplating Mom's hypothesis. He leaned forward and replied, "I can see your point and maybe it's a good one: especially the
pregnancy issue. I don't know because your laws are different
than ours. But Islamic law says that it's a sin for a husband to deny
his wife's pleasure and for a wife to deny her husband's pleasure. I
for one cannot or will not tell my daughter what she can or cannot
ask for or do in her marriage bed. I believe that what they do
together is sacred and private. If they choose to use other methods of
pleasure then that's their decision to make, not ours. It is however a
valid point and one I think maybe they should consider but in the
end, it is their choice, not ours that matters here. I also speak for
Juwan on this matter."

Everyone's eyes turned to us and Mom asked, "Josh, Narisa, how do
you feel about what's been said?"

Narisa looked at me and replied, "We really haven't done anything
yet. I really can't ask for or demand what I haven't yet experienced.
Josh has been very loving, kind and considerate with me. I will say
that if he asks, I shall give myself to him, I will not deny him his
rights as a husband. I will defer this decision to my husband."

"Josh?" Mom asked.

"This is so screwed up, Ma!" I began, "I understand your concern
and that you're trying to look out for our future, but at the same
time it's kind of like you're running our lives. I mean it's almost
as if you're saying that we're married, but we can only sleep together
on the weekends because it's a school night. I know that sounds
stupid but that's how I feel. I mean first we're thrown together and
all of a sudden we're married and we don't even know each other. We
can only communicate with gestures and actions and what has drawn
us together is our time alone at night. That's where we've been able
to build the most trust.

"I know we're just kids even though we're married and I know what
parents are always telling kids about wanting to learn about sex,
experiment and sort out all the emotions and feelings we have with
our hormones raging. At the same time, it's different with us: we are
married! If the U.S. government can acknowledge that and the
circumstances that surround our situation and admit Narisa into the
U.S. as my wife, I seriously don't think some Virginia judge is gonna
say we just want to get married to legally have sex."

I stopped to catch my breath and collect my thoughts before
continuing. "As Narisa said, we're just beginning to trust each
other and I just told her that I'm in love with her just before you
arrived. If I'm a man, and both of you have trusted her and me enough
to let us sleep together then you should trust us to do what's right for
us. I've accepted the fact that even though I never wanted to get
married at my age, I am. I can't change that. I can't take her back
home and divorce her, leave her alone or even live in the same house
with her knowing that we were married, then go out, get a girlfriend
and fool around like other guys my age. I'm married, she's my wife,
and I'm gonna love her like Dad loves you and I'm gonna try like hell
to make her happy. If that means we do "it" tonight, tomorrow or
two months from now, then that's what we'll do, but I'll promise you
this: I won't have intercourse with Narisa until I feel it's the right
time for her and she's ready. If the judge can't see the facts or doesn't
like it, well… he knows what he can do with it."

Mom was taken aback by the directness of my answer as was Narisa
and Juwan. In their culture, a child didn't talk that candidly with
his parents. Dad and Nazir had approving subtle smiles on their
faces because I'd stood up to Mom like a man.

Mom sat back in her chair wide-eyed and replied, "Well, I guess he
told me! Just keep it in mind okay?"

I wasn't going to give an inch on this and retorted, "The only thing on
my mind is her welfare, Mom. That comes first."

"Some more tea?" Juwan asked to change the subject.

"I'd love some, Mom!" I said with a proud smile.

Narisa hugged my arm to her chest, proud that I'd openly professed
my love and concern for her in front of our parents. God, her eyes are
so bright, shining and expressive!

Rafi and Hasan returned soon after that and we sat down and had a
great family meal that the three women had prepared. We "men" sat
in the living room after dinner and talked of life in the U.S. while the
women folk chatted and did the dirty cleanup.

Dad picked up the guardianship papers and power of attorney from
Nazir the next day and several days later, we obtained Narisa's
passport and exit permit from the police station. He also contacted
our attorney to file a petition with the court for Narisa and me to get
married.

As for us, we just took things slow and grew closer together in the
ensuing days. I had begun to learn a few words in Farsi and she was
able to do the same with English, even learning to pronounce my
name correctly. Mom taught her a few endearments in English and me
some in Farsi. Regarding our communication as a whole, we just
seemed to be able to sense what each other was thinking or feeling.

Notwithstanding the usually attracting attributes of my little wife's
form, I was totally enamored and fixated on Narisa's large, dark-
brown expressive eyes. They just seemed to sparkle and whenever
she looked at me through her lashes, I wanted to get lost in them and
she just melted my heart. I was also fascinated with her long, curly
blue-black hair and her ever-so-tiny feet.

Every morning I would brush and play with her hair as she giggled
from the attention. I also made a habit of tickling her as a pretense to
kiss and fondle her tiny feet. She just so enthralled me with her
innocent smile and infectious laugh. Narisa's voice was kind of high
pitched and soft, sort of like a young Japanese or Chinese girl's and
was very melodic to listen to.

Have you ever noticed that when someone brings up a topic and says
you shouldn't do it, that's what's on your mind? After Mom's talk
with us at Narisa's parent's home, I think it was on both of our
minds. Not to hurry up and do it, but it was just something unspoken
between us right under the surface.

Narisa had clutched my hand to her breast every night as a precursor
to falling asleep, but I was always apprehensive of going further with
her beyond a gentle squeeze of her breast or us making out. I'm not a
psychologist or a psychiatrist but I somehow felt she needed time to
heal or maybe it was just me. Every time I pictured her naked and in
terror, I didn't want her to feel she had to show her nakedness to me
simply because I was her husband.

Two days before we were to leave, we'd finalized all our travel
arrangements, obtained the necessary asylum papers from the State
Department and were ready to go home. We were to spend
tomorrow, the day before we left, with her family so that Narisa
could be with them one last time.

We readied for bed as we usually do: I generally just stripped off
down to my boxers and climbed into bed while Narisa would go to
the bathroom to change. Tonight though, she sat on the bed as I
disrobed and chuckled nervously as she watched me. I pulled back
the covers and climbed in giving her a shrug as if to ask "What's
wrong, aren't you going to get ready for bed?"

She looked at me as if contemplating for a few silent moments and
rose to stand by the chair. Slowly she began to unbutton her abaya,
bunching the bottom up in her hands to undo the bottom buttons.
When she'd unbuttoned the garment to right below her panty-clad
treasure, she let the garment fall and began to finish undoing the
buttons. Once unbuttoned, she slowly pulled it from her shoulders
with a pensive smile as she bit her lower lip. She then let it fall off her arms and caught it behind her in her grasp. She turned to the
side, laid it on the chair and turned back to face me.

She stood motionless for a few seconds then reached around and
unhooked her small bra. She hunched her shoulders and let the
straps fall down her arms as she held the cups in place with her arm.
With a timid smile and a sigh of resignation she lowered her hands
and as her bra fell away, I saw my wife's beautiful breasts for the first
time. My little bride's breasts were perfection! They were small,
conical mounds that pointed straight out about two inches from her
chest about the size of half an apricot. They were topped with pinkish brown puffy areolae and capped with two, tiny eighth-inch nipples. I just took in this incredible vision in slack-jawed wonder!

She turned around and slowly slid her panties down her legs and
bending over slightly stepped out of them one leg at a time, her hairless labia peeked out from between her legs as she held the
garment in her right hand. She laid the garment on the chair
and slowly turned to face me with her hand covering her mons. Still
looking at her in wide-eyed wonder, she cutely put up her hands as if
to say 'Well?' and with a smile quipped, "I'm naked!"

I was so hard I could have used my dick as a chisel to cut diamonds!
Narisa's mons had a light dusting of fine, black pubic hairs with a
fleshy roundness at the top of her crease with sleek, smooth and
hairless slender labia. She had a pronounced hood that poked out
proudly from between her lips. I couldn't see any part of her labia
minora hidden between folds.

I rose out of bed and she looked down at my boxers as if to say, "Hey,
you're overdressed!" I blushed as I slid my boxers down to expose
my appreciation for Narisa's breathtaking charms. With a hand-
covered gasp she stood with wide eyes fixated on my engorged tumescence.

I came around the bed towards her and she leapt into my arms,
wrapping her legs around my waist and hiding her face in my chest. I groaned from the sudden, tingling realization that her smooth little honey pot was pressed against my erection. I carried her to
the bed and laid her down on her side then climbed over her to
lie beside her.

"She then mounted my twelve inch schlong and impaled herself in
on fluid motion… Not! (Sorry, got carried away. I've read too
many stories on SOL). In reality, I'm just an average fourteen-year-
old kid with a five or six inch erect penis and about an inch and a half
across. Where were we? Oh yeah…

As I leaned down to kiss her, she wrapped her arms around my neck
and pulled me into a scorching kiss. She hungrily thrust her tongue
into my mouth and we were almost immediately kissing in wild passion.

I was so hot I just wanted to ravage her and like a kid in a candy
store, couldn't decide where to start: I wanted it all! I slowly brought
my hand up her right side to cup her breast and she exhaled deeply
into my mouth and moaned as she pushed her breast into my hand. I
began laying kisses all over her face: her forehead, cheeks, eyes, nose
and chin as I gently kneaded my wife's tiny breast bud.

Surrendering her neck, Narisa tilted her head back as I nipped and
kissed my way down, around and up to her ear and lightly nipped her lobe.
I kissed her right shoulder, down her armpit and gently enclosed her
entire breast in my mouth. She fed her breast into my mouth with a
gasp and looking down as I suckled moaned, "Oh Josh!"

Narisa was panting as I moved to her left breast, paying the same
homage as I did the right. I made a feather-soft stroke with the back of
my hand down the center of her chest to her mons and slowly
cupped her vulva. Narisa lurched up and groaned out, "Oh my God!"

I pressed my finger against her wet, hot slippery crease and my
middle finger fell into her valley. I dragged my finger up to the top of
her crease and she was shaking as she pressed herself against my
finger longing for more contact. I brushed my finger across her hot,
throbbing clit and it was fully distended and large - about a quarter of
an inch long.

I circled it three times and she exploded, locking her legs together
and trapping my hand, which she had grabbed and held tightly in
hers. She got a dreamy look on her face as she tilted her bead back
and as she came she screamed out, “Oh Josh, I love you!" and relaxed
back on the bed.

I wanted this night to be all for her! Narisa had taken it upon herself
to have the courage to unveil herself to me willingly and I wanted her
to know that I worshipped her. I slid down her side, slid her legs
open wide and moved in between her legs parting her labia with my
fingers. Still panting and recovering, she raised her head and looked
down, curious as to what I was doing. I gave her one long swipe
through her crease with the flat of my tongue and over her still
engorged button.

She flinched and grunted out "Uhhh" and flopped her head back
onto the bed. As she panted, she blew her hair away from her
mouth with a loud "Fufft" as she grabbed my hair and thrust her pelvis upward.

She then pulled her legs up and grabbed her thighs behind her knees. I made one long, slow swipe with flattened tongue from her tiny rosebud up to the top of her crease. I began to make rhythmic swipes up her crease from her weeping hole to her distended clitty and she'd gasp out "Oh, Oh, Oh" every time I made contact with her tingle button. She now wrapped her legs around my neck and was thrusting her pelvis
up in time to my licking rhythm.

Narisa was oblivious to the world around her. Her entire universe
centered on that one engorged appendage with thousands of nerve
endings. She was rhythmically keening something in Farsi loudly as I
feasted at her grotto.

I sucked her entire clit onto my mouth, hood and all and began to
strum it with the tip of my tongue and she went into orbit with all
thrusters blasting.

She shuddered three times and pinned my head in a vise when she
snapped her legs closed around my head and flooded me like she'd
peed. She'd yanked my hair so hard that it felt like she'd lifted off the
top of my head while yelling out, "Ahhhhhhh Behesht (Heaven)!!!"

Narisa was spent and just laid there motionless, relaxed and panting
through her mouth with her eyes closed. Oblivious to my actions,
Narisa lay there panting as I rose, went to the bathroom and
retrieved a warm washcloth to wipe her with. I tasted her discharge
on my lips and it was semi-sweet to the taste: definitely not pee.

I was hard, painfully hard and leaking precum steadily as I returned
to her. She'd now opened her eyes in a daze with a dreamy, unfocused
smile as I slid into bed next to her. Narisa softly moaned as I gently
wiped her vulva but the bed was soaked. She was so out of it, she couldn't even turn her head. She just lifted her hand and I took it with a gentle squeeze. She whispered, "I love you Josh, with all my heart!"

"I love you too, Princess."

I lay down beside her and she gently took my hand. I let go of her hand and it fell on my hip as I stroked the side of her face. She gently caressed me and felt my erection, slowly encircling it with her tiny hand.

She looked at me and smiled asking, "Husband need Narisa?"

“Desperately."

She slowly turned on her side and laid her head on my chest as she
looked at the throbbing erection in her hand. She moved her hand up
and down twice. I groaned out loud causing her to giggle. She slid
down my side and looking back up at me said, "I no know how."

She leaned over me and placed her mouth over the head and I
shuddered and gasped, "Oh God, Sweetheart!"

She slowly slid about three inches into her mouth and she gently
swirled her tongue over the head. That was all it took and I thrust
upward and shot off into her mouth. Shocked, she swallowed the
first salvo but choked on the second and next two spurts, coughing it
up onto my groin.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, "It just felt so good, I couldn't hold back."

Narisa started crying and I pulled her up to me and enfolded her in
my arms.

"Why cry?"

"I no do right, I spill your seed."

I chuckled and replied as I kissed her nose, "Don't worry, I can
make more. I love you Narisa, more than life itself."

"I love you too, Josh. I know you alway love me from start."

Seeing I wasn't upset with her she smiled, rolled on top of me and kissed
me, getting us both messy in the process. When we felt the cool, slick
stickiness, we both laughed as she sat up and with a scrunched up
face went "Eeeuuww."

She hopped off the bed with a giggle as I watched her cute, tiny little
butt at she scooted into the bathroom.

God she's got a cute butt!

I found my legs, followed her into the bathroom and started the
shower. Both laughing, we hopped inside and began to wash each
other off. It soon became an adventure in mutual discovery as we
both delighted in each other's nude details. When she was washing
my dick, I again became erect and she got that devilish look in her
eye.

She giggled as she knelt and began to slowly jerk me off. Well, any
fourteen-year-old teenager knows it doesn't take much with a girl's
hand doing the work and after about a minute I spurted right onto
her cheek. In wide-eyed surprise she jerked her head back and began
to laugh. After having my second climax within an hour, I wilted
quickly. She flopped it from side-to-side and quipped, "He sleeping
now?"

Nodding I replied, "Yeah, he's done for the night."

Climbing into bed naked, we spooned into our normal position.
Narisa giggled before she settled down and wiggled her butt to place
my dick between her tiny little cheeks, where he belonged. I gave her
right nipple a loving squeeze and a kiss on her neck and we fell into a
sated, wedded slumber.

When we arrived at the breakfast table, both with Cheshire cat grins,
Mom asked nonchalantly, "Have a good night?"

Narisa blushed a bright pink and covered her face giggling as I
proudly said, "Yeah Mom, the best of our lives!"

She reached into her robe pocket and set a pack of condoms on the
table saying, "Well next time, you'd better wear a raincoat. You both
might unexpectedly catch something… like a baby!"

"It wasn't what you think. Were we that loud?" I asked.

"Suffice it to say," she said over her coffee cup, "you're lucky the
morality police weren't banging on the door."

"Are you disappointed in us?"

Mom gave us a gentle smile and answered, "No Son. You were right.
It's none of my business. You two are married and have the right to
live your lives in a way that deepens and expresses your love for each
other and if the judge doesn't like it? Well, he can stick it, right?"

"Thanks, Mom."

Our last night in Tehran was a good one. Narisa found that she
really enjoyed the French arts (I enjoyed it as much as she did!) and
she made me lick her through four orgasms until I thought my
tongue would fall out. I'm lucky I don't have a couple of bald spots
where she was pulling my hair. Narisa was much better this time:
didn't spill ne'er a drop. For whatever reason, what we'd shared the
past two nights was enough; this only meant we'd have times to
experience more firsts. As we lay in bed after our unbridled passion
expressed itself and I was holding my tiny Persian Princess to sleep, I
said to myself, Ah, to be between the slender thighs of a dark haired,
doe-eyed, nubile Iranian girl… Hasan, you were so right!

Our flight back was rearranged and we were flying British Airways
with only one stop at Heathrow in London with a six-hour layover
and arriving in Washington D. C. at 8:35pm local time. All the
documents were in hand, passports and exit permits obtained, every
detail was finished and tomorrow we'd go back home.

Despite all that had happened in the past ten weeks: the painful and
traumatic events of saving a girl's life, our trial, conviction and being
sentenced to die only to be snatched from the precipice of death, I
found my life in this hostile, ancient and mysterious country. I'd
made friends: friends that I'd remember and think about for the rest
of my life and…

I found love. I found, in a tiny, fragile and terrorized little waif, naked
in the street and moments from death, my reason for living.

The End

Edited by Morgan

Continued in Chapter 5…

Default Template for Easy Text To HTML Converter