In the car

It's interesting that you leave a comment at the end of the memoirs, but sometimes it was bad and misguided. I was 45 years old now after the revolution. To write a converted memory, if it was good, tell me to write again. One rainy day in Karaj, I was going to Hesarak. I am not a passenger either. I forgot to say that this case was mine about seven years ago. As soon as I sat down, I took a look at it and saw that it was a girl's condition. I asked. I do not know how I saw him come to me and he started kissing me and kissing me. He was playing and playing with his tongue. I can't go on for long I do not remember the details, maybe because I have not written about this yet, I can not write much, but I can only say that although a long time has passed and after that I had different cases with hope and with others, none of them had the stress and pleasure of hoping. Written by Hamid