A Turkish Experience
My holiday was not going well. The prick, my `boyfriend' kicked off at every opportunity, and I was sick of it. One morning when he was being particularly obnoxious, I finally got tired of it, and stormed out of the hotel. As I paced the streets of the Turkish town, working off my anger, a boy approached me, "Come to Turkish bath house, Sir, authentic experience, very nice, come sir, this way" I allowed myself to be led by the boy, down a narrow alley, and through a low archway. I found myself in a stone courtyard, the boy had disappeared back to his hustling. I was approached by a man, he beckoned me, "This way sir, you want steam room, or full bath?" I was intrigued, "Full bath" I decided, what the hell, I was on holiday.
The man led me into the ancient, stone building, he requested payment in advance, and gave me a soft, cotton robe, then opened a door and ushered me through. I found myself in a corridor, with a row of cubicles. I entered one, and shed my clothes, debating briefly when I came to my underwear, then shrugged, and removed my tight boxer briefs. I paused briefly to look myself over; although we had only been on holiday a couple of days, my skin was already tanning, I always tan easily, despite my blonde hair, my chest bulged in all the right places, I had been working out before we came away, and had finally achieved my desired six pack stomach, As I looked down at my body I smiled at what I saw, the work had paid off. I wrapped the robe about my frame and exited the cubicle.
I found a large man waiting for me, he was dressed only in a towel wrapped around his waist. Although I am well built, and at 6'1", not small, this man towered over me, not so much in height as in bulk. His arms and chest were huge, not the bulk of the gym, but pure, solid muscle. His face was calm and expressionless, his dark eyes, focused somewhere over my left shoulder, were large and liquid, giving his face a gentle, kindly appearance. I had only the opportunity for this brief inspection, before he turned, and opened a door, he led me through a maze of winding stone corridors, then suddenly stopped, and opened a small door, leading me through an ante-chamber, he opened another door and ushered me through. As I looked around at my new surroundings, I felt his hands on my waist, as I looked down, I had time only to register that he had untied the belt of my robe before I felt his hands move to my shoulders, and slip the robe from my body.
I heard the door close with a hollow echo, I turned, but the man was gone. I was alone. I looked around the small room, it was octagonal, and quite small, perhaps 12' in diameter, the walls rose, up and up, to a domed roof high above me. The roof was painted deep azure blue, and had pin-prick holes through which the strong Turkish sun streamed. The effect was startlingly beautiful. I began to realise that the room was rather hot, sweat was beginning to form on my head and back, so I sat on one of the marble benches which surrounded the room on every side, except for the wall with the door. Instead of the cold I was bracing myself for, the bench was warm, even hot, I lay back and enjoyed the heat. After a time, I heard a whooshing noise, and saw from a vent above my head a blast of steam enter the room. I breathed deep, and allowed my body to relax on the stone bench. My mind went blank, and the troubles of the past few weeks melted away.
A noise interrupted my trance, then a blast of cold air. My man stood before me, a mountain of impassive bulk. He held out my robe, and I took it from him. He led me silently from the steam room, into the ante-chamber. This room was square, with pipes and basins attached to the walls, and a large, marble block in the centre of the room, bed sized, and table height. The masseur patted the table, I was unsure what he wanted, but approached the table, he patted it again, does he want me to sit on it? I did so, and was rewarded with a curt nod. The giant then gently pushed me down on the table, and arranged me face down, next, I felt him strip my robe from me.
I lay, naked on the slab, as I wondered what was about to happen, I felt an excitement stir in my loins. Then I felt his strong hands on me, he briskly rubbed up and down my entire body, I felt the slippery moistness of the soap, as he spread it across my skin. Then I felt a sharp slap, I turned my head to see my masseur wielding a large piece of fabric, rather like a pillow case, he brought the cloth down onto my back, foam flew. The sensation was surprisingly pleasant, the wet fabric slapping onto my skin made me tingle and the slight sting excited me. I watched as he worked down my torso, the muscles in his tree trunk arms flexed and rippled as he worked, I closed my eyes and enjoyed. As his ministrations continued down to my ass, I felt my cock harden, trapped beneath my body it felt confined, I shifted a little to ease the constraint on my dick. Noticing my discomfort, my masseur turned me over, onto my back.
I tried to catch his eye, wondering what he must think of the 8 inches of hard cock staring him in the face. His face remained impassive, if he thought anything of my erection he was not revealing it. Perhaps this happens all the time, maybe a boner is a normal reaction to this sort of treatment. The giant continued to work with his pillow case, slapping my stomach, and legs, but avoiding my straining cock. I relaxed, allowing him to have his way with me. From this angle I could study the man, the movement of his arms, and the muscles of his chest. His nipples were small and dark brown, surrounded by a light dusting of hair, the rest of his chest was smooth, except for a fine treasure trail of hair leading down from his navel, abruptly cut off by the towel wrapped around his waist. I studied his face again, he looked neither old nor young, buy I guessed he was in his mid or late 30s. His olive skin was smooth and shone with sweat, I watched, fascinated as a droplet rolled down his neck, crossing his bulging pec, and wended its way down his flat, hard stomach.
He suddenly stopped my delicious torture with the pillow case, I wondered what was coming next. I was not kept waiting long. My masseur applied a scratchy sponge to my chest, and began to rub briskly in circles all round my torso, and upper arms, I yelped with surprise at the sudden stimulation, he quickly moved down my body, working on my legs, he then slapped my hip gently, indicating he wanted me to turn over. I obliged, my cock had deflated from the harsh exfoliation I was receiving, my body tingled all over from the stimulation of the sponge. When he was done scrubbing me, he bathed my body with warm water, rinsing the soap from my body.
I heard him slapping his hands together, and settled back to await my next treatment. I breathed deeply as a scent of lemons filled the air. My man's hands settled on my tender back, he turned me over, and began working the lemon oil into my right arm, starting at the fingertips he began a slow, sensuous massage, covering every part of my body, by the time he reached my legs, I was hard as a rock, and humming with pleasure, again he revealed no reaction to my straining cock, merely working round it, not once did he touch it, not even accidentally. He turned me over again, and began working on my back. This was where his massive arms came into play, he firmly kneaded the knots from my stiff muscles, I was astonished at how much tension there was in my shoulders. My cock was aching now it was so stiff, a situation which was not helped as my man moved down to knead my buttocks. As his firm hands caressed my ass cheeks, I felt his fingers work deeper into my crack with every stroke. Try as I might, I could not restrain myself from pushing up to meet his probing fingers, rather than withdraw at the obvious sexual pleasure I was receiving, he pushed his fingers deeper into my crack, stroking my pucker. I gasped, as his strong, meaty finger pushed determinedly at my hole. I groaned out loud, willing him to delve further, I was rewarded as his finger slid into my ass. He paused a moment, and then began to explore, stroking the walls of my tunnel, I was crying out now, and wiggling my butt to increase the sensation I was feeling. His finger probed, around, then he found my prostate. I saw stars and yelled for more. When I came down he had pulled me off the table. I was stood before it, with my legs spread, and two of the masseur's big fingers in my ass. I began to wonder what his cock would be like. Would it be as big as the rest of him? Circumcised? I tried to turn, I wanted to see him, to kiss him, I wanted to see the desire in his eyes, and for him to see mine. But he restrained me, holding me firmly he bent me forward over the table. His hands rested on my butt, and he pulled my cheeks apart. I felt his cock head nudging at my entrance, as he rubbed against my hole with his cock, his hands were on my back, massaging the oil into my body in long strokes. He reached round my chest and began to stimulate my nipple, I moaned in lust, pushing my eager ass back, inviting my invader in. He took my cue, and began to push his meat into me. I gasped as I felt a sharp pain, he stopped, holding still as I adjusted to the fullness. I pushed back, signalling my readiness, he began to move.
The Turk grasped my hips firmly and began a slow, steady rhythm, I was soon overwhelmed by the sensations radiating out of my ass, moaning and thrusting myself back to meet his thrusts. His fucking increased in tempo, and I gripped the slippery marble bench to hold myself steady. I tried to move my arm, to stoke my cock, but immediately slipped down, my masseur took my arms firmly and pushed me down, spread on the table, he took my shaft in one hand, and held me still with the other. He then proceeded to give it to me, hard. He jacked my cock with his large, strong hands, and fucked my ass with his large, hard cock. I was moaning incoherently, feeling his meat thrusting in my hot tunnel, his hand on my shaft jerking in the same rhythm. I could feel my orgasm building within me, I clamped down with my ass muscles, milking him, I wanted to make him cum, to feel his hot jizz spurt inside my ass. As I massaged his cock with my ass, I heard him grunt, and felt his dick head swell within me. He had my cock in a death grip, squeezing it, his fingers working magic. I felt more than heard his next grunt, and then he slammed up against me, driving his cock deep into my gaping ass. His cum spurt, bathing my insides with its heat, driving me over the edge. I bucked and writhed against him, but he held me firm, milking the cum from my spurting cock.
When I came back to the world, I was lying face down on the marble table. My lover, clad once again in his towel, was gently cleaning the cum from my fucked ass. He allowed his hands to roam once more over my relaxed body, then eased me off the table, and wrapped my robe about me. He led me from the room, back to the cubicle where I had left my clothes. When I turned back to him, he was gone.
I dressed, wondering just what had happened, was a prostate massage just part of the `full bath' I had paid for? Or had it meant something to him? I walked out to the reception, wincing slightly from the movement of my now sore butt hole, the man at reception smiled at me as I returned the robe. "Nice bath sir? Open every day, come back tomorrow, yes?" I frowned, "Hmm, maybe I will" I said, smiling.
I headed for the exit, and as I reached the door, I spied my masseur, leaning against the frame of an open door. He beckoned me. I approached warily, he smiled at me, reaching for my shoulder, pulled me close. Our lips met in a dizzying kiss, our tongues danced, my legs felt weak, and my cock sprang back to life. As he broke the kiss, he smiled at me, lust shining in his eyes, "Come back tomorrow, ask for Aziz. I will show you the real meaning of a Turkish bath." I grinned back at him, maybe this holiday would turn out to be the best holiday I had ever taken.
Please email me at: benzedrine_bedlam@yahoo.co.uk, and let me know your thought. All feedback gratefully received.
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