The Newlin's, Marcie & Mark Pt. 04

Mark & Rana, the Iranian Girl

Mark cavorted with Mrs. Morgenstern and Fay and Arianna separately until it was time to head off to the University of Nebraska to pursue his dream of becoming an architect.

What he didn't anticipate was a sexual drought that would last into his third year there. The subject matter proved difficult and the professors he encountered were merciless as far as Mark was concerned. After almost flunking two vital courses his freshman year, Mark refused all invitations to parties and football games to hit the books. His grades improved, but he felt like an outcast among his peers and found himself falling into a depressed funk.

But that all changed one particularly blustery February morning when the four-story apartment building that Mark lived in with other students because the rent was cheap and one older family who served as the janitors---i.e. took out the trash, cleaned the snow and ice from the sidewalk outside the building and so on.

Mark was staring into the mirror while shaving when the building shook and shuddered as the sound of an explosion reverberated throughout his apartment. Within seconds he heard the screaming, dropped his razor and ran to the door, flung it open and headed down the stairs two at a time as smoke wafted its way up the stairwell.

There was more screaming, surely females, he would recall later on. But as he reached the ground floor a female student who was crying pointed toward the basement stairs. Without another thought, Mark headed down the stairs and into a dark cloud of billowing smoke. The concrete floor of the basement was strewn with red hot coals and some fifteen feet from him, Mark saw a man face down among the coals. As he ran to the stricken man, he realized that the furnace had exploded and there was certainly a danger that he might be engulfed in flames at any moment, for the wall just behind the fallen man was ablaze and moving toward them.

Mark reached the man who appeared to be nude, with most of his flesh burnt away, leaving him as red as a lobster pulled from a cooking pot. He did however; have a belt tied around his waist.

Jesus Christ, his clothing's burnt off him! Mark thought as he started to pull the man away from the approaching flames.

"Ow!" Mark yelled as he burned his hand touching the inert man's shoulder. There's no time to fuck around, he thought, and ignoring the searing heat from the injured man's body, picked him up in what's commonly called the 'fireman's carry' and began hauling him up the stairs to the first floor where he could get the man safely out of the building.

Half-way up the stairs Mark was met by a fireman who helped him transport the badly burned man to the paramedics just getting out of the ambulance. By this time the victim had turned from red to black.

Mark shuddered at the sight and said a silent prayer for the man, who turned out to be the janitor living on the ground floor.

Mark was thanked for his service by the Fire Captain and asked his name and how he came to be down in the basement. He answered the questions to the Captain's satisfaction and asked if he could return to his apartment.

"Yeah, sure, we got it under control. It's all but out already. You know, the furnace blew up in the guy's face. Poor bastard, I don't think he's gonna make it. I've never seen anyone burnt that badly that did."

Mark checked his watch and saw that he had fifteen minutes to his next class. He thanked the fireman who helped him and bounded up the stairs to his apartment, finished dressing and jogged to class.

The girl who had pointed Mark toward the basement was a young Iranian woman named Rana. She was rumored to be a distant relation to the last Shah of Iran, (Mohammad Reza Shah who was overthrown in the Iranian Revolution of 1979. Considered an asset by the CIA and American oil interests, many in his family and close relatives were given refuge in the United States.)

Lately Rana had felt on-edge, she was having trouble getting to sleep at night, and her mind was racing with all manners of strange and alluring thoughts, ideas and fantasies. Confiding in her friends, they all came to the same conclusion: she was horny. She was very horny. She was in a seemingly constant state of physical, mental, emotional and sexual arousal. She was masturbating at least five times a day but couldn't achieve the satisfaction sought.

Rana was taken with Mark's heroic act and good looks and contrived to meet him that afternoon in the Students Lounge on campus. She waited until he wandered into a corner of the student lounge that was unoccupied by anyone else.

This was it, she decided. This was her opportunity. She moved in on him like a tiger closing in for the kill.

"Hi," she said and smiled: she assumed the pose she had practiced before a mirror earlier; it made her breasts jut out even more than usual.

"Hi," he replied, recognizing her as the girl from the second floor.

"I ... um, saw what you did this morning. You're very brave. Have you heard anything about Mr. Deems? I know he was terribly burned."

That must be the guy's name, Mark thought, but couldn't tear his eyes away from her breasts.

"No I haven't. But the fireman said he'd never seen anyone burned that bad make it. I'm so sorry."

"It's a terrible thing ... and such an explosion! Why we might have been killed too," she said noting where his eyes were focused and not minding. Not minding at all. In fact, she could feel her heart beating; ordinarily she couldn't feel it beating, but now she could hear the thump-thump in her ears, could feel the blood pulsing through her veins; and her hands were trembling ever so slightly.

"I---I--I'm Rana. I live on the second floor. I'm majoring in architecture."

"Oh? Well I'm Mark, and of course I live in the building too, um, I'm on the fourth floor and guess what---my major is the same as yours."

After only five minutes conversation, Rana felt that despite his appreciation of her breasts and other body parts, he seemed lacking in that certain something that allows a guy to actually seduce a girl.

He was cute, no question, and he had a nice body and quite a shapely butt to boot, and he was a real hero. It was then she realized that she would have to seduce him without his knowing she was doing it. But how?

He was no longer staring at her body, but had shrugged off his backpack and sat down at a table and all but ignoring her opened a text book and began reading.

Rana was puzzled and frightened. Why isn't he looking at me? He's supposed to be flattering me with little phases about how I look ... things like that. Is it possible he doesn't have sex on his mind? I thought guys thought about sex every seven seconds. Fuck! What do I do now?

She had to get the ball rolling, and she could think of no quicker way to do so than to be as direct as possible.

"You want to know something?" she said.

"What's that?" he said, not looking up from whatever it was he was reading.

"I," she said, "am extremely sexually frustrated."

He was seated at a table in the Student Lounge; he stopped reading and looked up. Rana was perched against the window in front of him; her posture accentuated the tightness of her skirt against her leg and inner thigh, watching his reaction.

Mark was stunned.

There was a gorgeous girl standing before him; she lived in the same building as him—all sorts of possibilities raced through his mind beginning with 'she was extremely sexually frustrated?'

Stunned as he was, Mark saw that there was only one obvious answer, "Sexually frustrated, you say?"

She nodded, unblinkingly. Breathing hard.

He nodded too, wisely and knowingly. "Yes, I'm familiar with that problem," he said.

"Are you?" she smiled, not sounding all that surprised.

"Uh-huh, and I have a cure for it." He closed his text book and stood up. He looked around, saw a divider some eight feet away and taking her hand, led her over to it then pulled her around to the other side. Now they were shielded from any inquisitive eyes in the lounge. Only someone coming in a side entrance would see them.

"Turn around," he suggested, gently.

She smiled, and turned her back on him, slowly, trustingly, expectantly.

"Just relax ..." Mark added, both for his benefit and hers, and placed his hands upon her sides, just on her hips, "... and I'll see what I can do for you."

Rana knew that relaxing was an impossibility. She couldn't help but breathe in great big gulps as his hands moved slowly down her sides, down her hips and on to the side of her thighs, and then back up again; ever so slowly, ever so gently. His fingertips felt incredibly good and set her skin tingling as though he had an electric touch. She was definitely enjoying this. So was he.

In fact, Mark had already found her ass nicer than either Fay's or Arianna's. He wanted this to last, but knew their present location wouldn't permit much more groping before someone discovered them and he had a feeling this was a one time opportunity.

Rana was beside herself with joy. His hands ... his marvelous hands ... how would they feel on her flesh ... her breasts ... her ... But though his hands moved close to her breasts and her crotch, they did not make direct contact; at least not yet.

This was fantastic, he told himself. Her eyes were closed, her face a picture of sensual pleasure; her head tipped back slightly as he continued with this fairly platonic body massage. He could feel her skin through her clothes: soft in some ways, yet firm; nice and warm, almost hot; not too bony, but just right. He was starting to wonder how, or even if he should make things a little less platonic, when she moved backwards, closer to him, and came into contact with his erection.

He froze. She froze too, but just for a split second; she knew instantly what it was that she could feel, protruding somewhat from down there, and he knew she knew. There was no mistaking it for anything else. But to his immense relief, and disbelief, she did not leap away or start yelling or throwing things at him. Instead, she pressed harder against him---there.

He heard her sigh. It was time to take this elsewhere.

"Um ... I um, my car might be better ... you think?" he said the words sounding raw as they emerged from his throat.

Rana understood exactly what he was proposing and murmured approval. "Yeah, your car, is it close?"

"Yes."

Less than five minutes later they were clambering into the backseat of his Accord. Cars and dorm rooms were the norm for sexual encounters if you excluded alleys, toilets and very crowded bars where the girl could sit on the guy's lap and fuck while everyone else drank and/or screamed at the game on television while totally ignoring them.

"Move that sexy bottom of yours over here next to me, Rana," Mark said as he patted the seat next to his right hip. She hesitated, looking down at his hand as she considered something. Then having made her decision, she did as he'd asked.

A moment later they kissed for the first time. Fortunately Mark recalled Rita's advice on kissing young girls---"Go slow, soft and sweet as possible at first. When she responds in kind, increase the pressure, and then when her mouth opens, and only then, use your tongue."

His kiss caught her by surprise, but it was a pleasant surprise: she found his lips were soft, moist and warm, and the contact sent a shiver along her skin right up to the top of her scalp and down to her toes. She had never been kissed like that before, and she found herself marveling yet again at how incredibly good the things he was doing felt; it was as though he knew exactly what she liked. Was he that experienced? Well what if he is? Why should I care about it?

She decided she didn't care, and reached back to run her fingers through his hair, partly to lend reassurance that he was doing exactly the right things, and partly to press his lips harder against hers.

Mark received both messages, loud and clear, and kissed his way down to her neck, letting a hand drop to her breast and as she moaned from the kisses, traced a finger around and over her nipple, which was firmly erect and standing proudly through both her top and bra.

Rana was feeling incredibly good. Her nipple was tingling with his ministrations; his kisses, moving up and down her neck now, were setting the skin of her neck ablaze with pleasure; and the wanderings of his other hand also felt wonderful as they followed the rises, dips and hollows of her body. She sighed again, and was a little surprised and embarrassed as a very small moan of pleasure escaped with the sigh. They had both been utterly silent through the encounter so far, and she hadn't been meaning to break the silence. But he didn't stop or slow down, he just held her a little closer, and she reciprocated by leaning harder against him, and against the mound in his pants which was, to her delight, still growing.

Mark yearned to feel more of her skin, so he diverted his wandering hand and let it venture up and under her untucked top, his fingers brushing up and around her lower torso, across the skin of her hips and stomach. His venturing brought no protest from Rana, so he ventured further, tucking his fingers a little way under the hem of her skirt and then moving upwards along her right thigh. He wanted more, but given his position and angle he could only reach up so far, so he gave himself a few more seconds and then stopped in order to change his position and provide a better means of going even higher.

She knew he was taking his time and on the one hand, she was champing at the bit to just get on with it, but she sensed that this slow-and-steady approach was a much better way of going about it. He was building them both up, bit by bit; she hadn't believed she could become any more aroused than she already was, but he was definitely building her up to even higher levels of yearning and anticipation. And she was enjoying it, too.

Mark dropped his right hand on Rana's thigh and slowly began moving her skirt higher with his fingers.

"What! What are you doing, Mark?" she said, thinking she had to make some protest lest he think she was a pushover.

"You've never been felt-up in a car before?" he calmly asked her.

"Oh, no—never," Rana exclaimed, and Mark felt her muscles stiffen up under his still moving fingers and palm. "I've only ever ... ahhh ... you know, um, been felt-up at a party ... and ... maybe around the swimming pool when I was, you know, much younger."

"Were you born here?" he asked, curious about the way she pronounced certain words.

"Yes, of course ... but my parents are from Iran. I ... they are very strict Muslims. I---I am not as strict, but I am a Muslim."

"You are a strange girl, Rana. You come on to me—tell me that you're sexually frustrated," he teased as he leisurely rubbed her left thigh.

Rana didn't reply but looked out the window at a passing car.

Mark's fingertips were rubbing the sheer stocking covering her upper thigh. Damn, he told himself, Rana was a sexy woman.

Rana's voice called out, rising with each word. "Someone might see!" But she didn't take his hand off her leg.

"No one will see. It's starting to rain and in fifteen minutes it will be start to get dark as well. We're safe from prying eyes and you know it."

Mark began moving his hand further up her leg. He could feel the snap of her garter where it attached to the top of her stocking as well as her warm smooth skin, which was ever so slowly slipping beneath his moving touch. He could hear Rana's increased breathing as she sat stock still beside him as his hand roamed without interference under her skirt.

"Err, you ... you're gonna touch me ... um, you know?" She managed to sound subdued and a little playful at the same time, as her knees slowly parted under the moving material of her skirt. She put her right hand on the seat beside her almost as if to brace herself. And then, to his surprise, Rana rested her left hand on her skirt, cupping the back of his probing hand under the material between her legs.

"Your, you know?" he asked as he felt the heat from her flesh on the skin of his hand as his little finger bumped against the sticky wetness of her panty-covered crotch.

"And what would that be, sweetheart; your hot, sweet, wonderful wet pussy?"

"Wellll ..." Rana said sounding very pleased with herself and drawing the word out as she took a deep breath and then sighed.

"Mmmmm ... since you're not ... acting like ..."

His finger pushed into her panties and edged its way just a little into her vagina.

"Ahhh---ahhh gentleman ... I um, suppose that ... well, would be ... um, what I was referring to."

Mark let his hand sit there, relishing the moment: so soft, so warm, and oh so good.

"Can I?" Rana whispered softly.

"What?" he replied.

"Touch you?"

"Of course you can," he said, somewhat surprised that she'd bothered to ask.

She moved quickly and kissed him. That was a surprise. Her tongue, alive and electric, forced its way past his lips. His free hand went to her back; her hand went to his crotch as she drove him backward down on the seat. Tentatively Mark moved his hand down to her ass and she boldly shoved her hand down the front of his jeans.

She stopped kissing and stared at his crotch, her hand squeezing up and down his length before she was scrabbling at his fly, and then tugging them down to his thighs until he was exposed and erect before her. Rana drew in a breath and murmured, "No fucking way!"

Before he had a chance to speak she had him in her mouth. For the next few seconds all he could hear, aside from the thudding of his heart, were the soft wet sounds of her mouth sliding over his cock.

The feel of her tongue and sounds of her fellation were more than he could handle; his whole body tensed, and with a prodigious groan he came, eliciting a muted whimper from Rana. She continued bobbing for another minute, the sensations intensifying with each bob, drawing out more groans from deep within his body. Finally, she ceased and let him slide from her lips. She sat back against the door and dabbed at the corners of her mouth before sucking on her finger.

Mark lay there, stunned, pleased, vulnerable and invincible all rolled into one. The feeling of invincibility faded, though, and he gradually became aware he was lying naked in front of a girl with his now-limp cock on full display. Embarrassed, he started to pull his jeans up but her hand stopped him.

"Don't; seeing it pleases me," she said. "Was that your first blowjob?"

"No," he said, "but it was the best ever."

She giggled and when her mouth opened he caught a glimpse of his semen on her tongue.

"Wow, you answered my next question before I ask it."

"Huh ...? And---and what was that?"

She giggled again and swallowed. "Mmmm, "Oh, I was going to ask how it was ... you know, on a scale of 1 to10?"

Mark kissed her lightly on the lips and said, "You were a twelve ... okay?"

Rana laughed, delighted with herself and with him. She told herself she'd picked a winner.

"You know if you don't become an architect, you should try politics, you're very convincing."

"Mmmm, now it's your turn, okay?"

"My turn?" he said a bit confused.

"Would you mind kneeling on the floor?"

He did and she scooted to the edge of the seat, gathered her skirt in her hands and pulled it up past her hips before letting go. Her stockings and garter-belt and the panties under it were staring him in the face.

In the dim light available he thought he could see the vee of her pubic hair just above the panties gusset.

Rana reached out and caught him by the back of his neck and pulled his face into her crotch.

"Kiss it!" she said in a lust filled voice.

Mark pressed his lips against the dry fabric. Rana shifted and he felt soft yielding flesh under the panties. Her musk filled his nose and he became light-headed. Mark kissed her again, this time his mouth was open and he licked her center. Her hips rose up to meet him as the panties turned from damp to wet and he tasted her for the first time.