Monday, 14 January 2013


December 2012.  A quick trip to Istanbul, one of my favourite cities, and the mandatory trip to the hammam.  I like to try a different place on each trip, and this one had been recommended by a number of guides as both non-tourist and action friendly.  After a fraught taxi ride, I finally locate the place and head in.  Straight off, I am welcomed with tea and a quick, but lingering, shoulder massage.  The prices are sky-high, and even more so considering the place is quite run down, but I shrug and pay anyway.  Into the booth to change, and there is a knock at the door.  The guy who greeted me is standing there, wanting to let me know he will be ‘my guy’ if that’s ok?  I’m standing in my shorts, and he smiles and adds “I hope”.  He’s a local, nice body and some tatts, a bit short and unshaven, but overall pretty good, so I agree.

Walking to the hot room, I can see that it’s a very cruisy place, with many older bears and a few fit and pretty younger guys roaming about.  Into the (empty) hot room, and I spread myself on the slab to soak up the heat.  My guy comes in, now also wearing a cloth, and sitting next to me gently rearranges mine so that I am covered yet exposed.  He begins to massage me, quietly paying attention to my legs and arse, then stands me up and leads me to the basins.  This, dear reader, is my favourite part of the hamman experience.  To simply sit there, near naked, and have warm water poured time and again over you, gently rinsing away your cares (and occasionally, inhibitions).  The soap massage starts again, then the scrub, and I am in heaven.  Then, when rinsing me, the guy casually reaches under my draped cloth and gives my cock and balls a long gentle workout.  ‘Till now, I had been thinking that any action would take place between me and fellow patrons, not 'the guy', but that quickly changed.  Ignoring my now hard dick, he wrapped the cloth back around me and led me to the massage room and removed both my cloth and his own.  He’s got a good sized dick, cut and maybe about 7”.  He instructs me to lay face down on the bench, and the massage begins.  At first he’s just gently rubbing my back and arse cheeks, then works his way down my legs.  Reaching my ankles, he starts the return journey, but it feels a bit different this time, until I work out he’s using his mouth, not his hands.  He kisses his way right up my thighs and goes inward, then launches into a full scale rimming of me, alternating this with small bites on my arse cheeks.  The feel of his beard between the cheeks was outstanding, and the bites unexpectedly pleasurable, so I let him continue for a while.  After he stops, he climbs off the table and comes around to my head, and begins massaging my shoulders.  Climbing back up, he’s reaching down my back to my arse, and I can feel his thighs by my ears and his balls on the back of my head.  I squirm a little, and he tells me to turn over, so his balls are now dangling in my face.  I give them a lick, then start to suck them more aggressively, now understanding why it was so expensive for the massage.  It’s basically a brothel, but fun so who gives a shit.

After some 69 action, he flips me back onto my stomach and produces a condom.  I shrug, so he dons it.  Now, I mentioned he wasn’t too tall, so he’s able to get me in a wrestling hold and use my own body as the lever to fuck me, hard and fast, to the point of discomfort.  If  I’m paying, I want it to last for a while, so I tell him to slow down a bit and he climbs off me.  After some more sucking and occasional biting, I’m ready to slide my own dick into his taut little arse and ram him for a bit.  As I am positioning myself, and gently spreading his cheeks to give him some preliminary thumb action, he reaches back and starts to massage my balls.  Dammit if I didn’t shoot my load there and then….

**”Turkish Delight”, in Turkish…

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