cotton wool and fire, you can’t put them anywhere near each other because they’ll explode in flames!’ her grandmother would say whenever she protested.
Marriage between cousins was considered lucky and heaven-sent, a strengthening of families that brought unity. Prized above all was the marriage between children of brothers; there was even an expression for it, declaring it was written in the stars.
Zahra had noticed her son staring. Testosterone oozed out of him. When everyone sat around the
sofreh,
a tablecloth placed on the ground, with plates full of food (men at one end, women and children at the other), she grabbed him by the arm and snapped in his ear, ‘For the love of God pull yourself together. Unless you’re serious about her, don’t even think about it. You can’t mess around with family, especially after everything that’s happened; even
you
know that.’ Without looking at his mother he replied: ‘I’m serious.’
When Amir-Ali got home, he told his parents of his plan. He wanted to marry his cousin Somayeh. He was surprised at how quickly they agreed. She was perfect: pretty, shy, modest and an excellent homemaker. Most of the Tehrani girls that Amir-Ali knew acted as though their private parts were lined with gold, even when they were not attractive. Zahra and Mohammad had for a long time been praying that Amir-Ali would meet a good girl from a
sonati
family. Their son was immature and spoilt. He needed the responsibility of a wife and child to snap him into manhood. They had tried to tempt him with the daughters of rich
bazaaris
and industrialists, but Amir-Ali’s reputation had spread farther than they had hoped. He had been seen in gambling houses. He drank. He had girlfriends. Nobody would allow a man like that near a daughter. It made no difference that Amir-Ali had no appetite for these rich religious girls who, deep down, he suspected wanted to be Western. He needed a woman who knew his culture and his tradition. An honest woman.
Amir-Ali had lost his virginity at sixteen to the forty-five-year-old wife of a neighbour. Fear of discovery (on his part) and guilt (on her part) put an end to the dalliance and he moved on to girls his own age. Mostly it was fumbling and frottage. Sometimes they would have
la-paee
,
‘between the legs’ thigh sex. He would pump vigorously between a girl’s clenched thighs.
La-paee
sex was the most popular form of sex among teenagers and girls in their early twenties from
sonati
and religious families; these were girls who did not have the same strength and devotion to God as Somayeh.
Every now and again Amir-Ali and his friends would get lucky, but it was nearly always anal sex so the girl’s hymen would remain untouched and she would still be a virgin for her wedding night.
‘This guy gets married to this gorgeous girl,’ was the opening line of one of Amir-Ali’s favourite jokes. ‘She’s absolutely stunning. And of course, she says the usual crap: No one’s ever touched me! I’ve saved myself for you all these years! And on his wedding night, he realizes that she really is a virgin. He can’t believe it. He’s overjoyed. So he says to her father, you did an amazing job, such a beautiful daughter and you brought her up to be a virgin until marriage. I must thank you. But the father says: No, don’t thank me, thank her mother. So he says the same to her mum, and she replies: No, don’t thank me, thank her; she’s the one who kept herself pure. So finally he goes to his beautiful wife and says, thank you darling, for respecting yourself and for keeping your virginity. And she turns round and says: No, don’t thank me, thank my arse!’ The guys always fell about laughing at that one. Amir-Ali and his friends quipped that Tehran must be the world capital of anal sex.
Amir-Ali’s good looks and a family move to Shahrak-e Gharb, a middle-class neighbourhood in the north-west of the city, propelled him to a different world, which finally
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley