Sun Stories: Jazmin – Guess Girl – Chapter 1

I’m working at the salon as usual. Just another night. It’s 7:45 and we’re 15 minutes away from closing.

Jazmin enters the salon. She’s smoking hot and Middle Eastern gorgeous. Raven hair, caramel skin, green eyes, (Wow) and petite. She is absolutely breathtaking.

She’s wearing a white blouse and a black skirt. The hem is mid-thigh. Her caramel legs are exquisite. She’s wearing a pair of strappy pumps. (How can I turn away such a beautiful girl?)

“Hi. I work across the street at Guess and I thought I’d try tanning.”

“Oh cool. How did you hear about us?”

“I literally looked across the street and saw you.

“Oh awesome. We’re neighbors!”

“Yea, I work at Guess and I’m there doing client services on the 2nd floor a lot and I saw you.”

“Cool. We also have a gym here. Are you going on vacation, or just looking to get some color?

“Just want to even out my skin and get the good feeling of being tan in the winter.”

“Gotcha. Great idea. Thanks for coming in!”

“I’m across the street from you. We should be friends.”

 

She’s absolutely gorgeous.

 

“Yea… we should be!”

I take Jazmin through the different packages we offer and she settles on the 5 pack All Access.

I take her back to the room and show her all of the finer aspects of one of our elegant machines.

“Where are you from, Jazmin?”

“My parents are from Iran. They left when the Shah was overthrown in 1979 and came to America. They had me and my sister much later when they got established here.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of that. I knew a dude that went through the same thing many years ago.”

“Yes. It was a difficult time from what I hear from my family, but we are so much better off now.”

“Like the Kardashians?”

“No. They are Armenian. Totally different. But I find your American ignorance endearing.” She giggles.

I feel like an ass. “Okay. I put five minutes on the room for you to get ready and then if you’re ready sooner just hop in and hit the start button.”

“Okay! Thank you, Charles!”

“Off you go! Thank you for choosing Sun City!”

I go back to cleaning the toilets, taking out the trash, and mopping the salon.

The salon is closed and at least I got to munch my chicken stromboli. Just another day in paradise.

Jazmin is a new client and even though she came in late, she’s money for the salon.

 

But the night was about to take a dark turn when she came out of her tanning session. A turn I would have never suspected in a million years. 

 

…To be continued next Tuesday!

 

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California Dreamin’ – 1982 to 1984 – Shira – Persian Beauty

“…Her brown body, drenched in sweat as she rode me like a stolen horse.”

Oh… this one takes me back. I love this story!

(This post is not safe for work! NSFW! You’ve been warned!)

I was living in Santa Monica, playing in a band back in ’82 just living the rock n’ roll dream. I was working at that time as a busboy at a place called Cafe Casino in Wilshire Palisades in Santa Monica. Shira came in a few times to dine with her friends. Because of all of the shit at that time in Iran with the Shah, we had a lot of Persian people immigrating to America. Mostly California. If you look back in history, you’ll see that’s how the Kardashians got here.

I was a guitarist in a struggling band and a lowly busboy by day and flirted with Shira when she came in. I guess she liked my long blonde hair and fresh face and took a shine to me. She lived up in Brentwood which isn’t too far from me, but far enough way to be exclusive. We chatted a bit and exchanged numbers. I liked that she was dark, foreign and different from the usual girls I dated.

She and her girlfriends came out to see our band but nothing ever came out of it. She was lovely but I think I was just distracted from all the fleas and ticks of rock and roll at the time in early eighties Los Angeles.

One night we actually talked for six hours on the phone (9pm-3am) and she invited me to her house the next day for dinner to see if we liked each other in person. I agreed to go over. I was so naive back then.

So I go there and as soon as I walk in the door, she sniffs me and says “Last night on the phone, I just wanted to inhale you through the line”

And I was like “Yeah, we got on pretty well.”

“Is this your own place?

It is, Chaz

(Yes!)

She looks smoking hot and middle eastern sultry and I’m down for whatever. I just think she’s really pretty. I don’t know any better. She’s wearing a light blue blouse and really small white shorts and high heel sandals. Her long caramel legs are making me crazy. I’m 19 years old and this is all new ground for the boy I once was. She’s absolutely lovely and exotic. I don’t know any girls like her back home.

So we sit on the sofa, have a drink and are talking a while. She hops up from her end of the sofa and says “I want to smell you again”.

OK. So she straddles me and puts her nose deep into my neck and starts breathing in really deep. So I kissed her neck and she goes,”ahhhhhhhhh”. So I kept kissing her neck and shoulders, she starts doing the same to me. Next thing we’re French kissing,

Awesome, I’m a teenager, I love deep tongues. I was really enjoying it. Next she lays down on the sofa, I get on top of her and start kissing her again. One thing leads to another and we go to the bedroom and take turns giving each other oral. It was great. She had a raging orgasm and then teased me for what seemed like an hour until I had a huge orgasm too.

We end up having mind bending sex. She’s almost brutally sexual. Her brown body, drenched in sweat as she rides me like a stolen horse.

I have never met anyone like Shira, and girls back home don’t possess the kind of sexual prowess when it comes to staving off an orgasm and then coming like a freight train blasting through a forgotten station.

We made dinner together, pasta with pesto and truffle oil, with some really good parmesan, shared a bottle of wine and chatted on. Eventually we go to the bedroom again and had some crazy good sex and more oral in between. Great, intense, passionate sex.

Then we’re lying there, kissing and talking and she says:

“What am I going to do? I just took a six month lease on this place”.

Well, it’d be a good idea to pay your rent.”

“Well, that would be wasteful seeing as I’ll be living with you now”.

“Well, no, I think we should see each other as much as we can, and maybe have the odd sleepover and see how things work out”.

“But things did work out, I let you into my vagina, you’re mine now.”

I thought she was kidding.

“Well, if it’s important to you, you can call me your boyfriend, but you don’t own me.”

She started screaming, insulting me in Arabic, raving… (Which is kind of hot because it’s way before 9/11)

“Whoa, whoa, we just had sex, we’re not married. Sure we got into sex quickly, but hell, we met at a restaurant. I’m a musician. What did you think was gonna happen?”

“You said you take sex seriously, so do I. I only have sex with someone I’m in a relationship with, so this means we’re in a relationship and you said you wanted someone to live with and be happy with. I will cook your meals, clean your house, take care of our children. I want a child of my own soon.”

Holy crap… I agreed that we should keep talking, but I had to go home… I dressed and said good-bye. To her it was like seeing off a lover who was travelling overseas for a few years, massive hugs and kisses.

“Call me tomorrow???”

“Okay…. Okay…”

It was a moonless night, midnight, pitch black and pissing down with rain and I had to drive for 90 minutes on narrow, winding  roads in the Hollywood hills in my old ’69 VW  van. Because no one can drive in the rain in L.A. By the time I got home, white knuckled from gripping the wheel it was late, nearly 2am.

I woke up around 9am, my phone was ringing non stop and I answer it.

“I don’t appreciate this lack of communication. You are going to have to improve. You can’t treat me like shit after I’ve had you in my home, fed you, given you my vagina”

“I just woke up. Why did you call me so many times?

“ARE YOU CALLING ME CRAZY? I AM NOT CRAZY JUST BECAUSE I EXPECT SOME COMMUNICATION FROM MY MAN!!!!”.

At this stage, we’d known each other’s first names for like 36 hours.

We phoned on and off for like a week, me trying to increase the number of fights so she’d give up on me. About three days in, we’re arguing on the phone and I hear her moaning and stuff. She was fighting with me while masturbating.

Had to write her off.

Back then it was so much easier to cut off the crazy. I’m just glad her family didn’t hunt me down and cut my hands off… or worse!

But I will leave you with this lasting memory that has haunted me all of my days in a good way.

When Shira and I would have mad sex, she would get really sweaty. I like that. I like everything that happens to the woman I’m with during sex no matter what. But her sweat smelled like lawnmower exhaust. It had that hot, sexy, oily, burning with gas mixture kind of smell. I think it may have been from her diet, but I don’t care. It was real and I liked it.

For weeks after that whenever my neighbors mowed their lawn, I’d get a massive erection.

I wish that last part of this story wasn’t true. But it is!

Fuck you Pavlov.

 

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Nadereh – 2016 – Persian Beauty

Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.

I met Nedereh on the online dating platform, Clover. It’s like Tinder but I think the woman has to speak to the man first. (Or maybe that’s Bumble) She lives in Jersey City which is up near Manhattan, so she’s really far away. Normally long distance just doesn’t work. But she is going to be in town to meet with her brother. I was at Square 1682 and ran into my buddy, Church. (See: Church – 2012 to Present – Seizure Salad) His phone was dead and he needed to use my charger. I always carry a charger in my blazer. He senses that I seem a bit on edge and asks what’s going on. I tell him I’m meeting some chick I met on Clover for a drink. It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving which is a huge drinking night. Everybody gets together with family and friends and goes out to party. I didn’t plan on staying out late, I almost never do anyway. I’m getting too old for that shit. Besides nothing good ever happens after midnight when there has been a lot of booze involved.

Nedereh texts me that she is parking. Church asks me if I want him to leave. I told him to hang in case I hated her. Besides, she was only staying for about an hour or so and then going to her brother’s house.

Nedereh arrives and she looks good. Early fifties, but great skin so she looks younger. Pretty face and a fit body. I’m drinking my usual chardonnay with ice and she orders a glass of red. I introduce her to Church. We’re at the bar and she’s sitting between us. We start chatting to learn more about each other. She’s originally from Iran. Her family came here to the US twenty years ago. She said her husband is an asshole and they have been divorced since 2002. She has one son who lives in California and works in IT in Silicon Valley. Match.com and Clover haven’t yielded any good matches for her yet.

She works in Manhattan, selling insurance through brokers. She lives in a high-rise  apartment building in one of the better neighborhoods of Jersey City. A coincidence is that her birthday is 8/6/63. I’m 8/9/62. Both Leos and although a year apart, very close in birthdays. Who knows? Maybe we could share our birthdays with one celebration next summer if this works out.

She asked about the distance factor. I knew that would come up and be a problem. I like her. She’s pretty and sexy and I think we could be a match. But Jersey City? Come on. I lived there. She might as well be on another planet. I thought helicopter and told her that, but she had a better idea.

Nedereh  thought we should drive toward each other and meet in the middle. That’s a great idea actually. It would keep her away from my Philly lifestyle and my longing to be alone, but I could occasionally visit with her in some foreign town and explore, and go on a date. Could be sexy and fun.

I don’t know. Seems like a stretch. The holidays can be such a bitch.

I think the best part of the encounter was Church. He ignored us most of the time, which was respectful. He played with his phone and ran his business. But he would chime in and occasionally and be the best wing man ever. Nedereh asked me about my music career and Church started whipping out pics of me back in the day with my band. Nedereh liked the pics of the young, skinny, me but said I looked great now. I liked that. He showered her a pic of me last year holding my axe and she liked that too. Church was there making me look totally metal and I realize that he is an amazing wingman.  I don’t require a wingman, but he was perfect. I won’t forget him for that.

Church was funny and lively and I really appreciated having him there.

In some of my Tinder pics I have a beard. I shared some pics with Nedereh and she asked me about my beard. (Middle Eastern chicks like beards) I told her it now comes in completely white. She didnt’ seem to mind and liked the beard just like Michelle did. Michelle inspired the beard. She always thought I looked good with a beard and if I wasn’t clean-shaven, it would scratch her sweet face and she didn’t like that. I told Nedereh if she became my girlfriend I would grow my beard back. She loved that and laughed.

It was a wonderful hour and I’d love to see this Persian beauty again. She was fiery and fun. I love when there is good energy with people around the holidays. It makes it so much more intense and romantic. Everyone is in the spirit.

She had to go and I walked her to her car. She was driving a Mercedes 2 series. Which is little but I don’t care about material things. I’m sure she is proud of her little coupe. She said she may come back into the citylater to party with her sister-in-law. I told her I was down but I didn’t really want to do it. I was done. I hooked her, gaffed her and brought her aboard and was done.

I actually hoped I didn’t have to go out again. I spent my energy on meeting her and being in character and that took a lot. Church was awesome and he was waiting for a friend of his to show up to meet up for a drink.

I kissed Nederah and I told her I wanted to see her again. She is a solid lady and I would love to spend time with her. But the distance thing will probably sledgehammer any of that and I have to realize that. Fucking Clover. Too much distance. I am not ruling her out because she has great energy and we definitely had chemistry.  We’ll just have to see where this takes us.

I  texted her later and I told her I was tired and had family commitments, and wouldn’t be able to come back out later, (a bold-faced lie) and she agreed she was going to stay put as well.

Church said the best line of the night: “What nationality is she?”

Me:”Iranian.”

Church: “Maybe she’ll take you hostage.”

Me: “I hope so.”

 

I have spoken to her since that night and we both agree we like each other and would like to see each other again. It’s just the distance factor.

 

 

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