A twink is having problems with the water supply in his hotel room and asks a Black boy on duty for help. The young dude doesn't seem to know much about plumbing but he knows how to use his big tube! Check this out!

What they're putting in the water over there in the UK, we have no idea. But clearly it's doing something to engorge twinks like John-Paul and Sam with enormous cocks. Sam, the larger of the two, puts his massive member mutation to good use and pounds gorgeous bottom boy John in multiple positions after both of them have tasted thick rod in their mouths first.

JNRC really know how to bring the best out of its models! For example, check out this hot young dude with an amazing chest. He's takes a shower while wearing tight white underwear. The hot water running over his package gives a transparent effect to the undies, revealing a promising 6 inch soft cock. Once he takes his underpants off and starts rubbing his body, you will be glued to the screen!

JNRC really know how to bring the best out of its models! For example, check out this hot young dude with an amazing chest. He's takes a shower while wearing tight white underwear. The hot water running over his package gives a transparent effect to the undies, revealing a promising 6 inch soft cock. Once he takes his underpants off and starts rubbing his body, you will be glued to the screen!

“I am not a terrorist or a thief, I am only trying to help you”. This is a new one. Walking through the Sultanahment area on a autumn morning, I am stopped (is the word accosted?) by many men offering their ahem, services – from proposing to act as unauthorized guide inside the Topkapi Palace to taking me to the cheapest and best place for carpets. Most of them go away when ignored; I don’t think they really expect to be taken seriously. It is just one of the things Turkish men seem to do to pass time during the long off-season days.

There is something about Turkish men. And it is not just now. Look at the Topkapi Palace, built in the mid 15th century. The star attraction within the palace, with separate tickets and specialist guides, is the Harem Tour. An entire area devoted to the Sultan’s private proclivities, his wives and concubines and their affairs (marital and otherwise); that is where I head first. At the entrance to the Harem, the tour guide is saying something in French, his group in splits at what must have been an obviously lewd reference to the activities within the Harem. Or so I imagine, mentally composing Harem jokes as I walk in.

As any place with so many women, especially women competing for the Sultan’s affections and the throne for their male offspring, the palace must have been abuzz with political activity at all times. Think of prime-time soaps on Indian television with all their squabbling and scheming and multiply that by a few degrees and you will begin to get an idea of the hot-bed of intrigue that the Harem was. (Chew on this for a sampler, the Sultan’s mother, the quintessential mother-in-law or saas ruled the palace, and sometimes the empire from inside here).

But I am not thinking about such unpleasantness as I walk through the huge rooms with their ornate chandeliers and gilded mirrors, the stained glass windows and best of all, the striking Turkish enamel panels. It is true that the rest of the palace pales in comparison to the opulence of the women’s quarters. Or perhaps it feels that way because I am tired after a long walk through the palace grounds and cannot wait to get to the Konyali, which comes highly recommended. Not another royal chamber, Konyali is the restaurant inside the palace complex, with gorgeous views of the Bosphorus all the way to the bridges connecting the European side of Istanbul with the Asian.

“If the city speaks of defeat, destruction, deprivation, melancholy and poverty, the Bosphorus sings of life, pleasure and happiness”. Sipping coffee by the edge of the water, watching the passing ferries and the loud hungry seagulls, it is easy to understand Orhan Pamuk’s nostalgic fondness for this river.

When I finally come out of the palace, the day is warm and all the shops on the road are open, waiting for the tour groups to descend. Just across the road is the Yerebatan Sarayi, or the Basilica Cistern. Nothing I have read about it can prepare me for this experience. I step off the heat and the noise of Istanbul’s busiest district down a few steps, right into an underground water cistern, complete with marble columns and muted lighting. The air is cold down here and the place reeks of what I can only call atmosphere, enhanced by the music playing from invisible speakers. Local guidebooks proudly point out that a scene from the Bond movie ‘From Russia with Love’ was shot here but it is of the ‘Phantom of the Opera’ that I am thinking as I look at the water in the narrow channels on both sides of the walkway. The board outside is small and inconsequential and makes it easy for the purposeful tourist walking towards the Blue mosque to miss this place. And thank god for that.

As I step out, I spot a tram on the road and get in without thinking of where I am going. It is a lot like being on the road in India, pedestrians darting across streets at random, drivers with scant regard for traffic rules, blaring horns – everything except the cattle. I get off at the end of a crowded shopping street and find myself in front of a temple to sin. The kind of sin that comes sugar-coated and deep fried and stuffed and topped with nuts and dried fruit. Bring on the Baklava! And the shop-keeper brings it on, in flavours I had never imagined. I think about calories and suchlike only after I step out of the shop a full twenty minutes later, and decide to walk back to Sultanahmet square. Apart from anything else, I want my conscience to be quiet when I repeat this mini orgy the next day.

At the centre of the Sultanahmet square then, is the sight that graces a million postcards from Istanbul, the Blue Mosque built by Sultan Ahmet I as proof of the might of the Ottoman Empire. The blue tiles on the ceiling give the mosque its name but it could have just as easily been called the golden mosque or the multicolour mosque. Inside, muted sunlight filters in through the high windows, complementing the light from the chandeliers that hang low all across the prayer area.

As with all large places of worship, the tourist feels lost and overwhelmed but not the worshipper. Each has found a corner to call his or her own and is softly reading or praying. For all its grandeur, it is an unexpectedly warm and accessible place and the little groups of women gossiping in their own nooks after prayer, their children sleeping or playing quietly among themselves make it so.

In contrast, the Aya Sofya (or Hagia Sophia), the Church of the Divine wisdom across the road is weighed down by centuries of history. It has been built thrice over the same spot and was in later avtaars a mosque and now a museum. The high ceiling, the gilded but peeling murals of Christ and Madonna on the walls and Islamic medallions mounted on the pillars – I can only stare in silent awe, as all other visitors do here.

It is already dark and my stomach says it is dinner-time even if my watch does not. I choose a quiet restaurant down the road. The window display is inviting, and I can see the two old women inside making hot naan by the stove. Further, this is possibly the only place where the owner is not standing outside, ready to grab the hungry and the unsuspecting. That clinches it for me and I walk in with my friend and spend the next two hours over a leisurely meal, a group of four musicians performing for just the two of us. After the meal, the owner brings in steaming apple tea in their typical tulip-shaped glasses, and I think a meal cannot have a better ending (except perhaps with a baklava, but hush).

Dinner over, we are standing on the road looking for a taxi to take us back to the hotel and the stranger comes close to us and whispers, Lady, others cheating, you come with me, cheap and best food… I am glad. Nothing has changed in the couple of hours I have been inside. I go back to the hotel with a smile on my lips; Istanbul feels so much like back home.

Justin Christopher and his massive cock return to do their worst to Bo Mathews. Bo loves big dick and he works Justin's cock down his throat as far as he can take it until his eyes water. The men switch places and Justin fills his mouth with dick. When the fucking begins, Bo rides on top of Justin working his legs and his asshole. After a major round of Justin pumping Bo's ass, Bo lays back in the sling for another ride. Justin fills him up; using the sling like a swing, Bo pulls off and then backs onto the massive cock that waits for him.

Men Of Antalya

Studio:
Zip Productions

Series:
Men of… Zip Production

Antalya – the Mediterranean sun is burning, heating up the water and the long beaches, bringing the blood of the local men to a rolling boil. The boys and men from Antalya are extremely passionate and hot as chilli. In summer, when the air is filled with lust and the men are rammy, many a tourist enjoys a hell of a good time. Travellers, who first came to Antalya purely by chance, have returned every year since – and with good reason. Sometimes daring, sometimes playful or even shy – but always very sexy! Those guys love to show their “Turkish glory”. And it’s quite something what they have to offer. You’ll get 11 scenes featuring 15! Men having sex – twosomes, threesomes, hot solo-stunts or best buddies jacking off. The movie was shot in several small hotels in and around Antalya and hot sunny outdoor spots. In “Men of Antalya” horny boys and real men show you all the striking things they can do with the tools, they’ve got in their pants.

User: ensygnsa
Rating: 0.0
Comments:

fucking love those big headed cocks..
That's about the best looking cock I have ever seen! WOW does that make me a little crazy for it!
luv big mushroom cap heads like yours. makes my mouth water.
yummmm
i luv your head. i wuld enjoy sucking ur dick and having you cum in my mouth so much
Great looking cock. Loved the big dripping cum shot.

My name is Mehmet; I’m 18 years old Turkish teen boy, 5’7” brown hair brown eyes and slender muscular body type. I’ve only had a few girls in my life, nothing serious before have never had sex before.

This story takes place during the summer, my mom and my aunt decided to take me and my cousin Murat camping, he is my age too, we’re like best friends we do everything together. He is 5’6” black hair brown eyes and is also slender and muscled; he has pretty much the same personality as me.

Where we were camping in Turkey it was totally roughing it, no showers, running water or electricity. So we had to use outhouses and bath in the river we camped near. On the second day there, we were out running around all day getting all dirty and sweaty. We had planned to go wash off in the river but my mom said she had gotten this bag of water that you hook onto a tree branch and use as a shower. So we went out in the woods nearby to take showers. I hooked it on the branch and started to walk away so Murat could shower when the branch broke and it fell. So we decided we would have to hold the water overhead while the other one showered under it. So we both got naked with no problem since we were such close friends it was no big deal and I held it first. I tried not to look but it was kind of hard with Murat showering a foot or so away from me. He had a pretty nice body, and a decent sized dick for our age. Then he held it for me as I showered off. I caught him looking a few times, checking out my body as well.

We went back to the campsite and ate some Turkish food and played with the fire for a little while and then went into the tent for bed. Murat and I shared one tent while our moms shared another one across the fire about 20 feet away. We stayed up talking for a while about different things like sports and school and then dating came up on the discussion. I said how I didn’t see why he didn’t have more girlfriends; he was a good-looking kid. He said, “Yea, I noticed your toned body also when we were showering.” It got quiet so I took out the Turkish porn magazine I had brought to relieve some of the tension. After looking at it for a few minutes I noticed I was getting hard, I looked over at Murat and he was the same. Murat noticed I was hard too and asked if I ever jerk off, I replied yea more often lately. I said why, do you want to now since we’re both so excited over this magazine? He said he had never done it in front of anyone before but he didn’t care because it was only me. So we both got naked and started touching ourselves.

His cock was fully hard now and had grown to about 5” while mine was just a little bit bigger. We both sat there only a little bit away from each other stroking our cocks to a picture of some hot chick with big tits. I asked him if he ever touched another boy’s penis, I said I was curious what it felt like. So I reached over and wrapped my hand around his penis. It felt cool to touch a different one than my own, he saw how I enjoyed it and he did the same grabbing hold of mine and we both started stroking each other. I asked if I could kiss it, I said I saw it in porn once. He said ok only if he could try it afterwards. So he laid down on his sleeping bag and I crawled over and started kissing and licking his dick. It felt so cool that I opened my mouth and took the whole shaft into my mouth. He gasped, as I started to bob up and down slowly sucking and licking with my tongue. I did this for about two minutes and he said he was going to cum so I backed up and watched as load after load shot up onto his stomach.

I wanted to know what it tasted like so I licked some off, it was kind of sweet yet salty, but I liked it. “Ok my turn” he said excitedly. So I laid down and he began to kiss my dick. He started sucking on the head and going up and down the shaft slowly. He stopped after a minute and said, “I want you to put it in my butt”. I was so horny at this point I didn’t care. So he got on all fours and I spit on my fingers and started fingering his butt like I had seen in movies. I finally put the head up to his hole and slowly pushed in. It felt so good, I kept going slowly though, he said it hurt a little.

After being fully in he adjusted, and I started pumping in and out, picking up speed as I went harder and harder into him. I finally let loose and started pounding him so fast and hard he almost fell over. I said I was going to cum so I pulled out and he turned over and I shot it in his mouth so he could taste mine like I had tasted his. We both collapsed onto our sleeping bags panting like crazy. I looked at him and he was rock hard again. He smiled and said “my turn to try that” and I just smiled back at him…

Some kinky twinks simply can't get enough, back again for more is Kelvin and his boyfriend Adam, both kinky as fuck and gagging to be abused. Sebastian decides to humiliate Adam by forcing him to piss over his boyfriend Kelvin. In fact, what happens is very opposite, Kelvin is so turned on he shoots his hot teen load as he watches Adam fighting back the urge to piss after Sebastian has forced gallon after gallon of water down Adam's throat. Tut Adam holds back until Kelvin does the deed and pisses over himself.

Ahmet is a Turkish stripper. Good thing, because he has the body for it. He’s got some nice muscles stretching across hi six-foot frame, from calf to neck he’s cut and tattooed. Tribal on one bulging bicep and a dragon with girl sleeve on the other side. He looks good. Really good; especially now as he sits only three feet from me on the edge of my coffee table. Glistening from the workout he got from the striptease he did for me and from the oil he allowed me to apply to his body, he tightens and relaxes his pecs as he caresses his column. I am completely relaxed yet rigid as watch him; relaxed because this isn’t the first time we have been naked together and rigid meaning my hard-on is raging and in need of a good sucking.

I sit there moving my gaze from his face to his chest, to his huge Turkish cock and back up to his face, watching to see if he is fantasizing with eyes closed or taking peeks at me. What I see that he is taking good long looks at my shaft and licking his lips. This pleases me, because he has tried to tell me on other occasions that he is not gay and doesn’t think that he could get into performing fellatio on another guy. Yet here he sits, three free away from me, jerking off and close to cumming. Besides, he sure doesn’t seem to mind when I’m sucking him off and making his balls blow bigger loads that any of the little hotties he was always dancing for before he started coming to my place. There are his words, not mine!!

“Listen, I love a young girl sucking me off and I need hot moist pussy all of the time, but my nastier fantasies have to be fulfilled too, right?”

So Ahmet has come to see me on five different occasions. I am a paying customer and he always gives me what I pay for and I’m really glad I called his agency last September to see if they had any male strippers that would dance for men, or in this case just one man.

The first time Ahmet came over I was treating myself to a birthday fantasy. I have wanted to see what it would be like to have sex with another man, ever since I had first started becoming interested in girls. I was thirteen and in junior high school when I got my first glimpse of an erect cock other than my own. It was in the gym locker room…of course. He was a Latino boy with nice brown skin and his cock was stiff as any I have ever seen since. All the guys laughed at him in embarrassment, but I didn’t. I just looked and soaked it in and tried hard not to get caught doing so. I can still see his beautiful in my lust filled mind; its circumcised head, its gentle curve and tight little sack. So when Ahmet came over, I was very nervous. To make things worse he brought a body guard, who though he didn’t mean to intimidate me he did; to the point that there was no negotiations as to what I could do while watching him. So I got to see him undress, but my desire to masturbate while he did so, was never fulfilled. To this day, however, I can still remember the way me moved and dances so seductively. I was so turned on by his skin as he exposed more and more of it, until he was naked except for his biker boots and white socks. He was really into it, based on the magnificence of his stiff member.

To this point I had never touched another cock, much less stroked, licked and sucked on one, but god how I wanted to pay very strict attention to Ahmet’s. He’s Turkish so he is circumcised, nine inches when as erect as he can get…like pre-cum time. Big enough in circumference to fill my hand and not allow my fingers to touch my thumb, unless I really squeeze (which I was thrilled to find out that Ahmet really liked). Even at his biggest, his enormous Turkish cock still stands straight up and at attention, with none of the tell tale jack-off curve at all. God, his Turkish monster cock was perfect. I talked to Ahmet after his show, just before he left, and mentioned that I would like to have a private show with him and asked it he’d be averse to coming without the bodyguard next time. He seemed reticent, but promised that he would give me a call later so that we could talk more about it.

A week or so later he called and after a little small talk, he mentioned that I was his first male customer and that he didn’t know what to expect when he arrived at my place that first time. He said he was glad it was just me and that I wasn’t a flaming homosexual and that I seemed like a regular guy. I told him about my just wanting a little fantasy fulfilled and that he had fit the bill the night he came over; I was just sorry that his buddy had come with him. When he asked why, I told him that I really wanted to stroke off while he danced. He laughed and said that would probably have freaked him out that first night. He’d have been bothered by it when he first started to dance, but that once he found himself getting hard he would have been more open to me joining him in his naked dance. That’s when I mentioned his bodyguard again and he promised that if I ever wanted to see him dance again, he would not bring his friend so that I could “get my moneys worth”. Sweet!!!

The very next Sunday he was at my place at midnight. I list a number of candles and turned on the heater, so that I could see a good sweat worked up. As Ahmet danced and undressed, I sat on the love seat and watched him intently, and with each piece of clothing he removed I matched him. But before he could remove the g-string, I was already naked, hard and stroking to the beat of the music he was playing. He had his back to me, his hips and muscular ass swaying inches from my face. I wanted to rip the thong from his ass and bury my face in the crack. He started to slowly pull the thing down and my cock went wild as I saw more and more of his hot naked ass checks. When the thong was pulled below his ass cheeks, he slowly turned around to face me and to this day I do not know how that small bit of cloth held his massive Turkish cock in check. It was clinging to his member, holding on to it for dear life. Slowly he peeled the thong away from the head of his cock, allowing it to protrude for the first time. He then began to thrust his hips back and forth, coming closer and closer to my face; the things sliding down his erect shaft. I took a huge chance and reached out, hooking the thong around my thumbs to slid it down his legs as I slid of the love seat to allow myself to remove it completely.

I tossed the thong across the room and found myself on the floor just under his tight ball sack and quivering cock. Looking up at him, I asked if he would stroke his giant Turkish cock for me. As I climbed back up on the love seat, he wrapped his hand around his thick Turkish cock and started caressing it. For long, long minutes, he stroked his manhood in my face. I joined him in his efforts by working on my own. I was getting so close to cumming and just as I was going to tell him so, he let out a sigh and slowed down to an almost imperceptible stroking motion. His breathing was getting faster, his muscles shaking, his fist concentrating on the huge purple helmet his big Turkish mega cock was not wearing and leaving the shaft to its own devices. Momentarily removing his hand, I watched as semen dribbled from the piss slit and down his glistening shaft. As I started to shoot a load of jizz onto my heaving chest, he took hold of his big Turkish cock again and stroked it until his load of cum fired onto my face, chest and abdomen, there mingling with my own. I could not help myself as I tasted them. Making sure to taste his and mine separately, to compare them. I discovered that Ahmet’s semen was as silky and creamy as mine, and tasted of salt and cologne. Ahmet was watching me and said that he never has this intense an orgasm before. Much to my surprise, he asked if I would like to touch him. Assuming he was asking if I wanted to touch his cock, I reached out and caressed his balls, feeling the dampness of his efforts and the stickiness of his cum. He was a bit startled for about half a second, but soon enough was pushing towards me and I found myself touching another mans cock for the first time in my life. After hesitating for only a moment, I began to lick the head of Ahmet’s still stiffened cock, tasting his flesh and licking every inch of him. I did this until he was finally soft, and even then I continued. So often before, when fantasizing of giving a man head, when I shot my load the fantasy was over. It seams, however, that the real thing us a much bigger turn on than I imagined.

Ahmet went home soon after we were finished. Embarrassment, I suppose, rushing him on his way. I was as well, but we still took the time to make another appointment for later in the week.

I fantasized for the next three days about Ahmet’s throbbing member and what I wanted to do with it, so when he came by on Wednesday I was ready to see him. He seemed to be really relaxed, as he walked in. He was wearing a tank top, sandals and a pair of jean shorts. All I was wearing was a silk robe. As I sat down in my chair, he pulled of his shirt, turned on his music and started to dance, slipping off his sandals as his did. His skin was shining in the dim lighting of my living room. His movements were already arousing me and my cock was beginning to peek out of my robe; the silk fabric creating a wonderfully light feathery touch that I was really enjoying.

Ahmet unbuttoned his shorts and the only thing that was holding them up was his growing protuberance. Its stiffness was preventing them from dropping to his ankles. Turning his back to me, he moved his hips slowly back and forth. His shorts were now, bit by bit, dropping low enough for his smooth muscular ass to show just a little. I was dying to lick the tiny bit of crack that was showing just above the fabric. The more he danced, the lower the back of his shorts got. All the while, though I could not see his hands, I knew that Ahmet was touching and pulling on himself. He turned around to face me and I saw that the front flaps of his shorts were pulled aside and his shirt trimmed pubic hairs and the bases of his shaft, were very much in view. The business end of his hammer, poked out of the left leg of his shorts. He was completely erect and I smiled to myself as I wondered how his shorts didn’t just rip open. He pulled his shorts down, and this Turkish cock sprung straight up as if spring loaded; engorged with blood and needing attention.

Ahmet danced and gyrated with his arms above his head, his head bent back, his eyes closed as if to show that he was free of inhibition and loved showing is body off. As he danced as his body began to sweat, I asked him if I could cool him off, and of course he agreed. As I walked to the kitchen, I opened my robe. My throbbing cock had long been standing at attention, now out in the open and glad to be free of the fabric. I wanted so much for Ahmet to see what he could have if he wanted it.

It the kitchen I grabbed spray bottle that was filled with water and brought it back to the living room. I caught Ahmet looking at my hard-on as I walked back in. I slipped out of my robe as I sat back down on my chair and saw Ahmet’s smile when I waved the spray bottle at him. He began to dance again and moved in close to me as I sat on the edge of the chair. I used the bottle to spray water on his chest and abdomen and worked my way down to his manhood and wet him down until water beaded up on his skin. Water was dripping down from him, glistening in the light; looking to me like he was covered in diamonds. Water had soaked his pubes and u wanted to taste it. I asked if he was cooled off a little and he told me yes, but that in a way he was even hotter now. This did not stop him from turning around and asking me to spray down his back side. His ass swayed back and fort as I sprayed his back, water rolling down his spine and disappearing between his cheeks; which I sprayed liberally as well.

Much to my pleasure he began to gyrate his hips and when doing so he would give me a view of his tight little brown ring; only it wasn’t brown, it was more pink than anything and looked so clean and likable. Then finally he bent over completely, put his hands on his ass cheeks and spread them for me. I wanted to bury my tongue in his asshole. Instead I sprayed his hole with water and I could hear him moan when I did. He was really enjoying himself and I was enjoying it as well. Turning to face me again, his raging erection was bobbing in my face. I could not help but pull him to me and feel his dampness on my skin. I licked and sucked the water form his stomach moving down to his pubes, feeling their silkiness on my lips and the hardness of his hard Turkish cock against my cheek. I licked most of the water from his skin and hair, stopping to lick the dew that was dripping from his tight balls. My head spun as I felt the ridges of his sack with my swirling tongue and hungry lips.

Ahmet was breathing hard as I looked up at him; his head back and his eyes closed, his hips moving to guide my tongue to were he needed it most. I gazed up at his massive Turkish cock, the view reminding me of standing on the street and looking up and the Empire State building. He backed up a foot or so and danced in front of me staring into my eyes; simulating intercourse and thrusting his hips so that the head of his cock was pushed to within an inch of my face. Using his hand, he pushed down on his erection, pointing it directly at my hungry lips. He asked, with a seductive smile, if I had noticed that I had missed licking a bit of the water from his skin. Seeing that the water I had sprayed on his cock still glistened like jewels on its head, I leaned forward to gently lick away its dewiness. Lightly touching the very tip of his cock with my hot tongue; carefully swirling around the head trying to take in every drop. Licking seductively and lightly at the arrow point just below the piss slit, sending my tongue down the shaft leaving behind a trail of saliva. Using my lips to suck the spit back into my mouth; tasting his Turkish cock as I did and moving back to the beautiful tip.

Dry of water yet damp from my tongue, Ahmet’s hard cock quivered in mid air and I gazed at it, caressing it with my fingers. I grabbed his shaft and pulled it down, amazed at the amount of pressure that it took to do so; he was that hard. Then with my chest pounding and the purest since of pleasure, I slowly wrapped my hot moist lips around the head of his waiting erection. Softly sucking and licking, feeling the ridge of his glands against my tongue and lips. I’m not sure which was more eager, my soft lips or his blood engorged cock, but it did not matter for the two melted together in soaring ecstasy.

Ahmet slowly began fucking my mouth as I stroked my aching cock with the same rhythm, hoping for mutually timed orgasms. Deeper and deeper, he plunged his inflamed manhood into my mouth; god if I could have swallowed that cock I would have, but he is just to massive. As I stroked myself off with my left hand, I grabbed Ahmet’s with my right hand and began sucking and licking at his balls, hard shaft and purple knob; doing so with a delight I had never felt before. It was a culmination of a long lived fantasy, my inhibitions melting away and my desire mounting to a point that was too hard to contain.

Ahmet was controlled completely by me, and by the look on his face he was enjoying his blowjob and it didn’t matter to him at all that he was receiving it from a man. I sucked on his nuts and licked them and sucked on them some more. My tongue swirled around them, moving from side to side, licking where the met his inner thigh and underneath where it blended in to what we all call the “taint”. Tasting the slight bitter muskiness associated with ones asshole. Licking back up his ramrod, kissing and sucking on it as if to glean every bit of flavor from it and up to its swollen head to lightly lick and suck at all those little nooks and crannies that a cocks head fortunately has. Savoring the taste of him, the very idea of what I was doing to him and for him; wanting to do more, as much more as I could. Once again, I found myself wishing that I was able to swallow him whole. Just to be able to give him the pleasure that I wanted him to have and to feel. It was the same pleasure that I wanted him to give to me.

I slid his Turkish cock back into my mouth, and sucked and sucked; in and out of my mouth Ahmet slid. His moans were getting more frequent and louder, making me come closer and closer to my own ecstasy, my own orgasm. I wanted to come so fucking badly. So I did. Waves of pleasure undulated through my groin, semen gushing and splashing onto my pumping fist. I could feel its heat dribbling down my knuckles and fingers. I wanted a taste; no I needed it, so I brought my hand to my lips. Reluctantly I released Ahmet’s cock from my mouth; I continued the motion of bringing my hand to my lips. Licking and tasting my own semen, wishing that it was Ahmet’s that I was tasting. Priming my taste buds for Ahmet’s eventual second course, I swallowed every drop and never stopped stroking Ahmet’s Turkish cock.

I was ravenous by now and was turning into an animal. Sucking on Ahmet’s gorgeous and delicious cock with total abandon; dying to complete him, to finish him and to make him cum. He mumbled something I couldn’t make out, but based on the now familiar muscle shake let me know that the reward of my efforts was on the way. I needed it. I coaxed it. I licked and sucked his knob while I stroked his shaft and tickled his balls; which in his delirium had almost disappeared into his abdomen.

His cock was now a bright red. I swore I could see steam come from it like from a runaway freight train that couldn’t be stopped. Like when it’s headed to Dead Man’s Curve, obviously close to losing its load, and then he stopped. Holding his breath; convulsing, quivering and exploding. His orgasm erupted in my mouth, cum filling me, fulfilling me, satisfying me; satisfying my desire, my need and my want. Over and over he squirted, each shudder adding more and more cum to my happy mouth; burying my tongue deeper and deeper in semen.

Finally he stopped and I managed to slide his cock in and out of my nearly filled orifice. I withdrew slowly to show Ahmet what I held for him, held for me; opening my mouth to show him how much cum he had given me. Showing him how much pleasure he had given me, swirling my tongue around; pushing it out onto my lips and sucking it back in again. Savoring it, I then swallowed for him, for me; loving the taste in my mouth and wanting more. Sliding his cock back into my mouth to clean him and to taste any cum that might have been left there; wanting to eat it all. Finding more on the tip, a little jewel, like an after dinner mint. There was also more on his shaft and on his ball sack. As it was not distended, I sucked the sack into my mouth; licking his balls with my swirling tongue.

When I was done I was sure that no bath or shower had ever gotten his package as clean as my mouth had. I would suck his cock all day, every day if he would let me. That’s how much I licked it. That’s now much I loved sucking this mans cock . . .

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Just A Drop In The Sea Alan stretched, his flat, hard muscles rippling under deeply tanned skin. He gathered his long, dark, wet hair into a pony tail and quickly tied it back, before donning sunglasses and getting comfortable on his beach chair, soaking up the sun and staring out at the beautiful blue Mamara Sea.

This vacation had been perfect. He wore himself out yesterday doing the tourist thing, visions of palaces and bazaar filling his eyes, then slipping out of the hotel later for the scene at Taksim Square. Today he took the cruise out to Buyukada, the retreat of the Byzantine Princes. He felt like a Prince himself, spoiled and indolent, swimming in the warm water and sunning himself on the beach.

Relaxed and warm, he stared out at the swimmers, thinking this day would be absolutely perfect with just one more thing.

A slow smile spread across his face as he spotted that one thing swimming gracefully in the waters before him. A beautiful Turkish man, sleek and handsome, the water droplets glistening like crystals in his short, dense, curling black hair as the waves swept over his hard body like the caress of a lover.

Alan stood, and then walked back into the sea, diving as the water reached his slender waist. As he swam easily towards the muscular Turk, he was sure he recognized him as a man he had been admiring just the night before, socializing with some of his male friends in the disco.

As the American swam towards him, Hasad recognized him as a man who had caught his eye the night before. His friends laughed and teased him about his eye for American males, but he couldn’t help admiring the Americans calm sophistication. Not to mention the hard, slender body. That body was just as nice in swimming trunks as Hasad had imagined it might be naked. How fortunate to see him here today!

Hasad stayed where he was, treading water until the American almost caught up to him, then dived and swam a little ways, before surfacing and flashing a teasing smile over his shoulder.

Grinning, Alan swam to catch him. They played in the water wordlessly, diving and flashing away, catching up, tagging each other lightly then dashing away again, the waves tossing them as if the Sea herself wanted to play, until both of them were gasping and splashing like boys.

Gradually, their tags became a bit more daring. A quick tweak of a nipple brought to pinpoint hardness by the sea breeze. A soft stroke over a rock hard ass. Balls gently cupped as one came up beside the other.

They had worked their way into deep water, and around a little point so they were alone and out of sight of the other sunbathers, when Hasad finally stopped to catch his breath and Alan caught up with him. He stopped and stood on the sandy bottom.

Hesitantly, Alan raised a hand and caressed Hasads face, stroking the back of his fingers over the rugged visage.

Hasad put his arms around the American and drew him closer. Alan fit himself against the Turks body, feeling the hard, full muscles against his own flat belly. They were of a height, face to face. Alan tilted his head and kissed Hasad.

Hasad responded eagerly, drawing Alan harder against him so he could feel the large dick rapidly swelling in his thin suit. Kissing him deeply, Alan reached below the water, sliding his hand down and around Hasads hard ass. Working his fingers into the tight trunks he moved his hand down and around the front, sliding the suit down that tight butt and grasping the hard cock that was pressing up against him.

Moaning, Hasad arched so his dick thrust into Alans hand, and slid his own hands beneath the water to cup Alans ass with one, the other slipping into the loose trunks the American was wearing to find an equally hard dick throbbing for release.

Still kissing deeply, they parted only enough to allow both of them free play below the water. The warm seawater caressed them gently as they each began stroking the other, strong hands wrapped around hard dicks. They stroked gently at first, exploringly, then harder and faster as their needs became more urgent.

Alan gasped, taking a deep breath as Hasad cupped his balls and squeezed them tightly, feeling Hasad’s dick throbbing in his hand as he stroked it fast and hard.

Moaning, Hasad began pumping slightly with his hips, his throbbing hard-on trapped in Alan’s grip. Alan squeezed the hard prick tightly causing the head to swell until Hasad thought he would burst from the pleasurable pressure.

A warm wave rolled over them so that only their heads remained above water and Alan wrapped his legs around Hasad to keep from being swept away even as their heat increased. Hasad slid his hand around Alan’s ass to gently slip a finger inside him, working it in and out in rhythm with his strokes on Alan’s dick.

Alan whimpered and his muscles tightened so that they were drawn together tightly. He released Hasad’s prick so he could cling tightly to the Turks big, muscular shoulders, his fingers digging in and leaving red marks as he humped against the hard belly muscles, their dicks rubbing together and rubbing against the both of them, black curly public hairs mingling as their balls touched lightly, the warm water surrounding and caressing them both.

Hasad’s finger slipped deep inside and Alan cried out as his hot cum poured out into the salty sea, heating and making their bellies slick. Hasad whimpered slightly and Alan responded by taking a deep breath, then allowing himself to slide down their bodies. His head dipped under water and Hasad felt his dick taken into a molten hot mouth, sucking at the head of his swollen, aching prick, so ready for release that he could feel the cum rushing up from his balls and shooting deep into the other mans throat.

He cried out and put a hand on Alan’s head, caressing and holding but careful not to trap him as Alan sucked the last drops of cum from deep inside his cock, before rising to the surface, sputtering and laughing, trying to swallow and breathe all at once.

Copyright © IstanBoys.com

We are not listing most of the gay/cruisy Turkish baths here upon the requests of their owners, because they can still be closed by an obsolete law that forbids action in public places. (This law has nothing to do with the gay action specifically, and it definitely does not have any punishment for the individuals involved, but is just a reason to close the venue for a while)

So, we would recommend you to find these places by asking the other gay people that you will meet in other gay venues.

In fact there are a few hamams (Turkish baths) worth visiting for gay people, and their prices are twice more than they normally would be, just because they allow gay action. Besides, they are not very well kept and clean.

Visitor feedbacks:
“This is about Park Hamam (changed name) along Divanyolu. I had a really bed experience there, though its now assumedly a family hamam with both men and women than being explicitly gay. it say 1.5 hours@ 60LTR when technically was 20mın MAX for a shower w. a foam rub, and 20 minutes for an oil massage. The guy who gave me a foam bath himself had a shower for 15 min, which was interesting. ……..
On top of that when I tried to give feedback, the owner was defensive and vocal. I would never recommend anyone to this place though ideally its the best location in a touristy area like Sultanahmet.”  (15/05/2009)

Attention: This bath house is still being listed on some websites and some guide books as gay/gay friendly venue, but its has changed its name and concept totally since 2003.

REGULAR HISTORICAL TURKISH BATHS – NOT GAY

CAGALOGLU HAMAM
Cagaloglu Hamam (=Turkish bath) was built about 300 years ago on an area of 2834 sq.mt . It is considered the last sample of its category and the architectural design is astonishing. It is open everyday. The bathing hours for men are 07:00 – 22:00 and for women 08:00 – 20:00 hours. It also has a café as famous as itself.
Address: Prof. Kazim Ismail Gurkan Caddesi 34, Cagaloglu (Across from the Iranian Consulate) Phone: (212) 522 24 24
Web: Cagalogluhamami.com.tr

CEMBERLITAS HAMAM
This hamam built in 1584 was also very popular among the Ottoman Sultans. It is considered to be one of the most important examples of 16th century Ottoman architecture.
Address: Vezirhan Caddesi 8, Cemberlitas  Phone: +90(212) 520 18 50
Web: Cemberlitashamami.com.tr

GALATASARAY HAMAM
Opening Hours: 08:00 am-10:00 pm
Address: Turnacibasi Sokak 24 Beyoglu, Istanbul +90 212 2524242
This hamam was used exclusively by men for almost 500 years. This all changed in 1963 with the addition of a small section for women. However, aside from this little addition, not much else has been altered. It was originally built in 1481 during the reign of Beyazit II and contains many pretty details, such as the intricate tile work at the entrance to the steam room in the men’s section. One major feature here are the marble slabs where bathers can be massaged in semi-privacy rather than on the heated central navel stone. The admission price includes a full service, including massage. Admission is about 20 Euro
Web: Galatasarayhamami.com

WHAT IS A HAMMAM ?
The Turkish hammam (also Turkish bath or hamam) is the Middle Eastern variant of a steam bath, which can be categorized as a wet relative of the sauna. They had played an important role in cultures of the Middle-East, serving as places of social gathering, ritual cleansing and as architectural structures, institutions, and (later) elements with special customs attached to them. Europeans learned about the Hammam via contacts with Turkey hence the European name for it: “Turkish” hammam.

Taking a Turkish bath firstly involves relaxing in a room (known as the warm room) that is heated by a continuous flow of hot dry air allowing the bather to perspire freely. Bathers may then move to an ever hotter room (known as the hot room) before splashing themselves with cold water. After performing a full body wash and receiving a massage, bathers finally retire to the cooling-room for a period of relaxation.

In Turkey, the advent of modern plumbing systems, showers, and bathtubs in homes caused the importance of hammams to fade in recent times.

A typical hammam consists of three interconnected basic rooms similar to its Roman ancestors: the sicaklik (or hararet -caldarium) which is the hot room, the warm room (tepidarium) which is the intermediate room and the sogukluk which is the cool room. The sicaklik usually has a large dome decorated with small glass windows that create a half-light; it also contains a large marble stone at the center that the customers lie on, and niches with fountains in the corners.

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Turkish bath

The Hamam (from Arabic: حمّام‎, ḥammām) is the Middle Eastern variant of a steam bath, which can be categorized as a wet relative of the sauna.

In Western Europe, the Turkish bath as a method of cleansing the body and relaxation was particularly popular during the Victorian era. The process involved in taking a Turkish bath is similar to that of a sauna, but is more closely related to the ancient Roman bathing practices.

A person taking a Turkish bath first relaxes in a room (known as the warm room) that is heated by a continuous flow of hot, dry air allowing the bather to perspire freely. Bathers may then move to an even hotter room (known as the hot room) before splashing themselves with cold water. After performing a full body wash and receiving a massage, bathers finally retire to the cooling-room for a period of relaxation.

Etymology

ḥammām is from the Arabic root ḥmm with a general meaning of “heat”, from which many words referring to “hot spring”, “fever” etc. According to Ibn Sidah ḥammām is derived from al-ḥamīm “the vehemence of summer heat” (Lane).

The word ḥammām simply means “bathroom” or “toilet” in many dialects of vernacular Arabic, while it means hot springs or spa town in other dialects.

The hamam combines the functionality and the structural elements of its predecessors in Anatolia, the Roman thermae and Byzantine baths, with the Central Asian Turkish tradition of steam bathing, ritual cleansing and respect of water. It is also known that Arabs have built many of their own version of the Greek-Roman baths they encountered following their conquests of Alexandria. However, the Turkish bath has a more improved style and functionality from these structures that emerged as annex buildings of mosques or as re-use of the remaining Roman baths.

The hamams in the Ottoman culture started out as structural elements serving as annexes to mosques, however quickly evolved into institutions and eventually with the works of the Ottoman architect Sinan, into monumental structural complexes, the finest example being the “Çemberlitaş Hamamı” in Istanbul, built in 1584.

A typical hamam consists of three interconnected basic rooms similar to its Roman ancestors: the sıcaklık (or hararet -caldarium) which is the hot room, the warm room (tepidarium) which is the intermediate room and the soğukluk which is the cool room.
A Turkish bath provided for a harem.

The sıcaklık usually has a large dome decorated with small glass windows that create a half-light; it also contains a large marble stone at the center that the customers lie on, and niches with fountains in the corners. This room is for soaking up steam and getting scrub massages. The warm room is used for washing up with soap and water and the soğukluk is to relax, dress up, have a refreshing drink, sometimes tea, and where available, nap in private cubicles after the massage. A few of the hamams in Istanbul also contain mikvehs, ritual cleansing baths for Jewish women.

The hamam, like its early precursors, Roman (at least pre-Christian) thermae, is not exclusive to men – hamam complexes usually contain separate quarters for men and women, or alternatively they are admitted at separate times. Being social centers, in the Ottoman Empire, hamams were quite abundant, and were built in almost every Ottoman city. Integrated in daily life, they were centers of social gatherings, populated on almost every occasion with traditional entertainment (e.g. dancing and food, especially in the women’s quarters) and ceremonies, such as before weddings, high-holidays, celebrating newborns, beauty trips etc.

There existed some special accessories of which some are still used at modern hamams: such as the peştemal (a special cloth of silk and/or cotton to cover the body, like a pareo), nalın (wooden clogs that would prevent the wearer from slipping on the wet floor, often decorated with silver or mother-of-pearl), kese (a rough mitt for massage), and sometimes jewel boxes, gilded soap boxes, mirrors, henna bowls, perfume bottles and such.

Traditionally, the masseurs in the baths, tellak in Turkish, who were young men, helped wash clients by soaping and scrubbing their bodies. They also worked as sex workers.1 We know today, by texts left by Ottoman authors, who they were, their prices, how many times they could bring their customers to orgasm, and the details of their sexual practices (From the Dellâkname-i Dilküşâ, eighteenth century work by Dervish, Ismail Agha; Ottoman archives, Süleymaniye, Istanbul).

They were recruited from among the ranks of the non-Muslim subject nations of the Turkish empire, such as Greeks, Armenians, Jews, Albanians, Bulgarians, Roma and others.

At times the relationship between a tellak and his client became intensely personal. It is recorded that in the mid-18th century, a janissary — an elite soldier in the Ottoman army, also often of European descent — had a tellak for a lover. When the latter was kidnapped by the men of another regiment and given over to the use of their commander, a days-long battle between the two janissary regiments ensued, which was brought to an end only when the Sultan ordered the tellak hanged.

After the defeat and dismemberment of the Ottoman army in the early 20th century, the role of tellak boys was filled by adult attendants4 that scrub and give massage.

Dating back to French rule and located in the heart of Nicosia’s old town is Hamam Omerye – a true working example of Cyprus’s rich culture and diversity, hard struggle, yet sense of freedom and flexibility. The site’s history dates back to the 14th century, when it stood as an Augustinian church of St. Mary. Stone-built, with small domes, it is chronologically placed at around the time of Frankish and Venetian rule, approximately the same time that the city acquired its Venetian Walls. In 1571, Mustapha Pasha converted the church into a mosque, believing that this particular spot is where the Khalifa Omar rested during his visit to Lefkosia. Most of the original building was destroyed by Ottoman artillery, although the door of the main entrance still belongs to the 14th century Lusignan building, whilst remains of a later Renaissance phase can be seen at the north-eastern side of the monument. In 2003, the EU funded a bi-communal UNDP/UNOPS project, “Partnership for the Future”, in collaboration with Nicosia Municipality and Nicosia Master Plan.

Budapest has four working Turkish Baths, all from the 16th century: Rudas Baths and Király Baths are currently open to the general public, while Rác Spa Bath is just being reconstructed and Császár Spa Bath is not a public thermal bath.
edit Introduction of Turkish baths to Western Europe

Turkish baths were introduced to the United Kingdom by David Urquhart, diplomat and sometime Member of Parliament for Stafford, who for political and personal reasons wished to popularize Turkish culture. In 1850 he had written The Pillars of Hercules, a book about his travels in Spain and Morocco in 1848, in which he described the system of dry hot-air baths which had been in use there, and in the Ottoman Empire, very little changed from those which had been so popular in Roman times.

In 1856, Richard Barter, having read Urquhart’s book and worked on the construction of a bath with him, opened the first modern Turkish bath in the United Kingdom at St Ann’s Hydropathic Establishment near Blarney, County Cork, Ireland. The following year, the first Turkish bath to be built in England since Roman times was opened in Manchester, and the idea spread rapidly through the north of England. It reached London in July 1860 when Roger Evans, a member of one of Urquhart’s Foreign Affairs Committees, opened a Turkish bath at 5 Bell Street, near Marble Arch.

During the following 150 years, well over 600 baths opened in Britain, while similar Turkish baths opened in cities in other parts of the then British Empire. Dr. John Le Gay Brereton, who had given medical advice to bathers in a Foreign Affairs Committee-owned Turkish bath in Bradford, travelled to Sydney, Australia, and opened a Turkish bath there in Spring Street in 1859, even before the bath had reached London. Canada had one by 1869, and the first one in New Zealand was opened in 1874. Urquhart’s influence was felt even outside the Empire when, in 1863, Dr. Charles Shepard opened the first Turkish bath in the United States at 63 Columbia Street, Brooklyn Heights, Brooklyn.

Today there are just fourteen Turkish baths remaining open in the United Kingdom, although hot-air baths still thrive in the form of Russian steam baths and the Finnish sauna.

I, perhaps I never will be, perhaps I was not able,
never was, never saw, don’t exist:
what is all this? In which June, in what wood
did I grow until now, being born and born again?

I didn’t grow, never grew, just went on dying?

In doorways, I repeated
the sound of the sea,
of the bells:
I asked for myself, with wonder,
(and later with trembling hands),
with little bells, with water,
with sweetness:
I was always arriving late.
I had traveled far from who I was,
I could not answer any questions about myself,
I had too often left who I am.

I went to the next house,
to the next woman,
I traveled everywhere
asking for myself, for you, for everybody:
and where I was not there was no one,
everywhere it was empty
because it wasn’t today,
it was tomorrow.

Why search in vain
in every door in which we will not exist
because we have not arrived yet?

That is how I found out
that I was exactly like you
and like everybody.

-from "The Sea and the Bells"