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Turkish Hotel

Gay
2005-02-15

I was staying overnight in a tatty old hotel in Turkey where I was doing some travelling. This night I’d got back to my room late after an evening of sight seeing and dining and pulled off my dusty boots to let my feet breathe and cool down. It was hot, there was no air conditioning in my room and I needed a shower.
 
It didn't work. It had worked in the morning and on the previous night but not now. Not now when I really needed it. Cursing, I slipped my shorts and boots back on and headed down to the small reception area.
 
I hadn’t seen him before, this young Turkish guy behind the counter. He wore a short sleeved shirt open to reveal a smooth chest, his face was clean shaven. His dark skin was smooth and his hair was black, well trimmed and glistened with some kind of gel. I explained that my shower was not working and he explained that there was no one around to fix it. He was the owner’s son and had a room in the hotel, the owner was out, the reception was closed, but he would do what he could and I should follow him.
 
It’s not every day a fit, thirty-something Turkish guy offers to let you use his shower and I wasn’t going to say no. I followed him along the corridor admiring his tight butt in his tight jeans and felt my own jeans start to get tighter around my crotch area.
 
His room was on the ground floor, simple, uncluttered and cooler than mine. Beyond the bed was the door to the bathroom and he simply said ‘go ahead,’ as he waved his arm in that direction.

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   I thanked him and went into the small bathroom. It was clean and there were plenty of towels, soaps and stuff for me to use; he was obviously a clean guy.
 
The shower was great. A hard jet of water at just the right temperature soon had my body relaxed. My feet ceased their throbbing and I even sobered slightly after my meal and Turkish beers. I didn't want it to end but knew I shouldn’t outstay my welcome. I turned off the water and pulled back the shower curtain.
 
He was sitting on a wide ledge in the bathroom, naked. He had his knees drawn up to his chest and his hands wrapped around them. Between his legs I could see five inches of soft, dark meat hanging free, his balls rested on a towel that he had put on the shelf and his uncut cock rested on it, dark and slightly wrinkled. He was looking at me, his mouth slightly open as if he was about to say something.
 
I just stood and stared back not knowing what to do. My own cock, not as fat as his but equally as long, stayed limp and my balls, warmed by the shower, hung low and relaxed. I knew that I would not stay soft for long and reached for a towel.
 
He shook his head, stretched out his legs and let one swing to the floor.

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   His cock fell against one thigh as his ball sack splayed out on the white towel. I shrugged, ‘what?’ He smiled broadly showing crooked white teeth in his tanned face and gripped his cock with one hand. I stared and felt my pulse quicken. He started moving his hand slowly up and down his shaft, bunching his foreskin up over his cock-head before pulling it right down again to reveal his pink, swelling nob. He kept smiling at me.
 
I smiled back and made to step out of the shower. He stopped smiling and shook his head. I was to stay where I was. I did and moved my hand to my own cock. He shook his head again. I was to watch and not touch; neither him nor me. I let my hands hang by my side and feasted my eyes on his growing cock as he continued to wank himself slowly.
 
The cock grew longer, it stayed the same girth but the length increased as it filled. As he pulled it his balls lifted from the towel on the upstroke and then spread out again on the down, until his pole was fully erect and his balls contracted. They didn't hang so low but still showed themselves as the two perfect rounds that they were.

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   They were almost hairless, his pubes were short and inky black, his nob was now purple as he continued to pleasure himself with the same, slow strokes.
 
My cock was solid now, sticking out into thin air, throbbing and crying out for someone to touch it. I wanted to. He could tell, he kept smiling and shook his head again. I was there to watch only.
 
And I watched. I watched as he tipped his head forward and let a little spit fall from his mouth and land directly on his exposed piss-slit. His hood bunched up and swallowed it. He pulled it back to show his cock-head wet and glistening. His balls tightened further as his slow, deliberate strokes continued. He looked at the eight inches of meat he had in his hand, watched himself as his fist moved gently up and down and then he looked back at me.
 
He bit his bottom lip and his smile narrowed, his eyes closed slightly and he let out a very quiet moan. He gasped, held his fist down into his pubes letting his cock-head stand inflamed and ready, untouched. He looked back down at it and swallowed hard.
 
I waited.

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   He waited.
 
It was all in slow motion, his slit opened, his juice oozed out; one short spurt followed by a flow of creamy spunk that escaped and trickled down his shaft like slow moving lava from a volcano. One long line of Turkish cum slid from the big, swollen cock-head and down the length of smooth, dark meat in perfect symmetry until it started to dribble over his fingers. His fist had not moved, he just held his cock as it let its cum out gently, no sudden movements, no spasms, just flawlessly flowing young juice for me to look at and savour.
 
He looked back up at me as the last seep of cum left his cock and slid down to his fingers. He smiled again and his breathing slowed. He looked at my cock, rigid and painful, my balls contracted beneath it full and desperate to unload. I longed to wrap my fist around my shaft, to shove it into his smooth mouth and unload the bucket load of cum that was ready and waiting. I started to move my hand again but again he shook his head.
 
He stood up. His cock stuck out proud before him and a bead of cream dripped from it. He walked towards me, his eyes on my cock and I imagined his lips around the base. . .
 
He shook his head and left the bathroom, presenting me with his smooth skinned ass, as perfect as the rest of him.

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When I reached the bedroom he was on all fours on the bed, he showed me his asshole, pink against the near black skin of his crack. He moved his knees apart, tucked his head down between his hands, raised his ass in the air and waited for me.
 
And then I knew that that was where he wanted my cock to go.
 
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