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Gay stories > Category : Gay sex > Gay sex with Mustafa the handsome
By Dream Boi, 0 Reviews Post your review

Mustafa was the best looking waiter in the hotel. He was dark, classically handsome and had eyes that drew me in and made me weak. There was a theatrical element to him as he was always over-correct, very formal and over-acting his role of waiter. He walked with a confident and sexy swagger. His trousers were a little tighter than those of the other waiters and they seemed to be of a different cut altogether. They hugged a pert and rounded bottom which I could barely take my eyes off. He was also around ten years my junior and I thought probably straight with no shortage of offers and opportunities from young girl guests in the season.

About two weeks in to my three weeks stay, I caught him eying my crotch as I walked towards him. I always made a point of speaking to him whenever I saw him at meal times but little beyond pleasantries in my limited command of Turkish. He always seemed to warm to me and now I started to hope that he may even be interested in me.

When I was alone at the table he started coming unnecessarily often and lingering. This gave me loads of opportunities to admire his lean physique and especially his gorgeous buttocks. I wanted him. He would come to the other side of the table to me and exchange a few words in Turkish allowing me to gaze into his eyes. I could rarely stop myself looking down at the front of his trousers too, something he must have noticed. He was completely flat-fronted with no visible evidence of anything there at all. This became something of a curiosity for me and I found myself eying him up at every encounter looking for the slightest suggestion of his elusive manhood.

I finally plucked up the courage to test his interest. I asked him if he knew of a local Turkish Bath, a "Turkish hamam, not tourist hamam". I thought that if he were interested this would be his chance to offer to take me and join me in the hamam and perhaps take things further. He shook his head ponderingly and indicated he would find out. He returned and started to give me directions. My heart plummeted along with my foolish hopes. Then he told me he would come with me. My hopes were promptly restored.

We arranged to meet the next day when he finished work at four o"clock, outside the hotel. I had a whole day to grow nervous. What if he was just being friendly to a foreigner, or looking for a tip and a free Turkish bath? What if I made a move on him and he rejected me? How would I face the embarrassment of seeing out my remaining time in the hotel with not just him but all his colleagues knowing of my failed exploit? He would surely enjoy telling them. I resolved to proceed very cautiously.

I was in the street at the front of the hotel shortly after four. I waited on him for a change. He arrived looking more scrumptious in jeans than his hotel uniform had so far revealed. I couldn"t stop myself from checking the front of his jeans, which he noticed but let pass without reaction. He was completely flat-fronted even in close-fitting jeans and this puzzled me. I told him he looked very "chic" as this was the limit of my Turkish.

We set off walking in to the resort trying to communicate as we avoided the dozens of obstacles, holes and raised slabs in the pavement. Occasionally I found myself behind him as we negotiated past a car parked on the pavement and secretly drooled at the sight of his tight buttocks in his jeans. I was wearing loose boxers under loose linen trousers and as I walked my lengthening penis started to brush against my boxers.

He talked to me in a mixture of German and Turkish, looking as happy as a newly-adopted stray dog. Now that I had his undivided attention I could look in to his deep Mediterranean eyes not just for a second or so before he strutted off to another table, but for as long as I wanted. I became more aroused as we strolled along. On our next little exchange, I found myself looking at his lips as we spoke. His voice was confident but gentle, clear but in languages I had little grasp of. His lips were divine. I became conscious of mine and I noticed I was becoming short of breath. Now my penis was firmly pushing up against my trousers. I saw him look down at me but, other than the slightest of double takes, he didn"t react. The combination of the physical stimulation from walking, the visual stimulation of Mustafa, and the promise of what could happen in the hamam were proving too much. I had reached the point where I knew I was going to have a full-on erection.

At the next obstruction, I fell behind him and adjusted my penis upright and pulled down my t-shirt to make it less noticeable. When I rejoined him a few steps later, I had already failed as it had dropped down a little and was protruding more than ever. I suddenly took a sharp intake of breath as my lungs struggled to catch up with my racing heart. He looked first at my lips and then noticed the wobbling tent below my waist. We stopped. Now I was at his mercy. Would he think me some sort of pervert, getting up on just walking?

He laughed once and said "alahla", like "oh my god". In the uncertainty of the moment I casually apologised and shrugged my shoulders. He replied saying in Turkish, "very, very nice". He looked into me and for that moment there was nothing in existence apart from our two faces fixed on each other, and my erection. "Sex ?" he asked. He didn"t know how badly I wanted him, sex or not, I just wanted him. I felt myself falling into his eyes as I nodded and panted in a way I would have laughed at anyone else apparently faking desire in such a crass way. I blinked and switched my gaze to his inviting luscious lips. How could anyone have this affect on me?

I started to feel myself tremble and I had to stop my teeth chattering. "Shall we go to a hotel?" I mumbled. "OK" he said, non commitingly. It was still hard to read him but my desires were now firmly leading me. He would surely have been sacked if he had come to my room in our hotel. I knew of another hotel that I had stayed at a couple of years before. It was a top-quality hotel in the resort centre, at the end of the run of expensive designer shops. Expensive and indulgent and probably as discrete as any local hotel was likely to be. The only problem was getting there, it was some 10 minutes walk away and not only did I now have full-on erection but I was in danger of coming before we got there. As I looked down the street planning the route I caught site of a taxi. It was going the wrong way but provided the answer.

"Taxi" I said. Another "OK" but this time he took my word as a command and went in the road to see clear of the trees looking both ways. I studied him. He seemed eager, willing, even a little panicked looking to hail down a taxi as if I were his wife about to give birth on the pavement. But I wasn"t, it was "sex" on our minds. Did he think I would lose my erection unable to achieve it again or was he as desperate as me to consume his desire? I took the opportunity to lower the waist band of my boxer shorts in an attempt to hold in my erection. I pulled down my t-shirt again. I thought that we could now walk without being publicly indecent.

I grabbed his hand to pull out of the street and indicate the change in plan. It was the first time I had actually touched him and it made me tremble again. "No taxi, we can walk, come". I pointed with my other hand. He held on to my hand as we turned off the main street towards the hotel down the quieter back streets. In Turkey, you occasionally see two male friends walking holding hands without any sexual significance. It appears very odd to our Western eyes. Now Mustafa and I were firmly holding and stroking each others hands as my heart and mind raced. I couldn"t stop the trembles or my teeth from chattering and my erection was so hard it was starting to ache. We spoke very little but when we did, he seemed high and happy with his eyes were sparkling.

We eventually arrived in the smart foyer and let our hands go as we approached the reception. Filling out the guest card, my handwriting was visibly affected. I asked for a "senior suite", the most expensive but this was not the time to count the pennies. Mustafa told the porter that we didn"t need him to show us our room. I am sure that the receptionist had a good idea as to why we were there.

The moment the lift doors closed I looked into those bottomless eyes again and then his lips as the gravity of inevitability brought our lips together. He tasted of tobacco which I could not imagined previously that I would have liked. Now it was delicious. The kiss was very gentle, refrained and incredibly sensuous. His breathing was deep and and steady while mine, along with my body now in touch with his, revealed my trembling. We laughed at my relative tallness, my arching down to him. My erection pressed against his stomach. The lift stopped and we walked hand in hand again to the very end of the corridor to our suite. As I was trying to operate the key card he started to horse play, putting his arms around my stomach from behind. I so wanted him to put his hands a little lower. We went in and I turned towards him as he closed the door. I finally pulled up the waistband of my boxers and allowed my hard erection free. He stepped towards me putting his hands first on my back then lowered them slowly on to my buttocks. He gently pressed his body against mine as I finally got to put my hands on those buttocks I had admired since I first caught sight of him.

We kissed again, this one more juicy and strident. He started brushing his taught young stomach against my erection. My whole body was trembling. I think he knew how close to orgasm I was and it seemed to get him worked up. Those moments in the arms and lips of Mustafa with my staggered gasps and involuntary muscular contractions were, without question, some of the sweetest of my life. I was held on the verge of orgasm, on the verge of fainting, in ecstasy, unable to think, unable do anything, unaware of the past, without concern for the future and with the object of my all-consuming desire. His hands were on my clenching buttocks, his legs inside mine. I wanted him completely inside me. He moved me in his dance, gently directing my body in opposite directions to his, rubbing, through our clothes, my pulsating erection against his his stomach. My neck was wet with his saliva. His breathing was accelerating as was the pace of his dance.

The moment of inevitability arrived. I yelled out loud and gripped him hard. I probably bruised him. I certainly hit him hard in the stomach a few times with my ejaculating penis. I continued to grip his buttocks as the aftershocks rhythmically left my body.

I stepped back panting, barely able to believe that this was just the first two minutes in our room! He pointed to the wet patch on my linen trousers and I guessed he said to take them off. We walked, me unsteadily, through a small but beautifully appointed living room and in to the bedroom, which looked rather bland by comparison - a standard hotel room with one queen-sized bed. I went in to the bathroom where there was a jacuzzi bath. Sadly it was not large enough for two. I undressed and had a very quick shower washing off the semen and washing my bottom - just in case. I replaced my t-shirt as a gesture of modesty. When I joined him he was stripped to his boxers sitting up on the bed and looked amazing. I forgot the embarrassment of my weak shoulders and slightly podgy stomach as I looked upon his wondrous lean, hairy dark body. His boxers were fairly close fitting but not close enough to reveal anything inside. I knew I would have to remove them.

Opposite the bed was a wall-mounted LCD TV and things to make tea and coffee. With them were three little pots of honey. I grabbed them and took them to the bedside. I asked and gestured for him to lie down flat. He obliged. I trickled the first part of a pot on to his neck as he laughed. I got on to bed alongside him and proceeded to lick the honey over and very slowly off his neck. He was delicious. His laughter turned into heavy breathing. It didn"t take long before my penis was back up to full strength, now mostly in contact a naked thigh. I gestured him to close his lips and trickled sticky honey over them. I got over him and licked them and his luscious tongue. It was a real honey tongue fest.

He pulled of my t-shirt and put his hands on my naked buttocks, moving the fingers of one hand in to the crack. The sensation and surprise of his finger pushing in caused another sharp intake and yelp. He moved it forwards and backwards, getting deeper and giving me a clear signal that he wanted to fuck me.

I hadn"t seen his penis yet and didn"t want to roll over and be fucked until I knew the size of it. I now hoped, in line with my earlier surveys, that it was small so that it wouldn"t hurt too much. Besides, he was getting ahead and there were still two pots of honey to go and more parts of his body to explore.

I gently moved over to the centre of the bed, making him pull out his finger. I emptied a whole pot of honey around his belly button over his dark, hairy stomach, avoiding his boxer shorts and their contents, for now. I noticed a tent to his boxer shorts. He had a penis after all. I guessed his was about the same size as mine. I started to lick and now it was his turn to be surprised. There were little muscular contractions accompanied by whimpers and "alahla" over and over again. He put a hand on my head once and signalled for me to go lower. I made him wait a little longer. It was a great tease and I guessed he was now fully hard-on.


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I pulled down on the rear waistband of his shorts. He lifted his body from the bed and I pulled them slowly down and off to reveal a perfect-looking cock. It was straight and much longer than I had thought. It was dark and, of course, circumcised. God it was beautiful. He looked at me with those deep, soulful eyes for approval. In a repeat of his words on the street to me. I offered "very, very nice" in Turkish. I opened the last pot of honey and tricked around a third up and down his penis and on his balls. Then I started licking! Oh my god! I worked from his undulating balls slowly up his cock using just my tongue. His breathing went crazy and he started gasping. As I reached its head, I thought he was about to come. I wanted to make his moment last as long as I could so I went back down to his balls and alternated licking different parts of his hyper-erect penis to keep him simmering. I think I kept him like this for around 5 minutes - bliss for us both. I had just returned to the head again when he shot a full load. It reached as far as his chest which I hadn"t thought possible. I continued licking and tasted his salty semen. I sucked the last out. I felt satisfied but I knew there was more to come. We cuddled, smearing his semen with our stomachs and chests. Our legs intertwined and we liberally kissed without the fear and intrepidation we had initially had.

I was no longer sure which part of him I liked the most. The spelling eyes or pert buttocks that I had fallen for while being waited on, or his masterly cock of which there had being absolutely no sign of before. He was an altogether beautifully endowed person. I felt some envy tempered by the fact that he was here with me now slobbering over me and that we had made each other come. I wanted to fuck him.

As he had done to me, I found my way with a finger to his anus. It went in and appeared to have as big an effect on him as it had had to me. His eyes popped and mouth opened wide returning to a smile. It was hot and moist in there. I wiggled and went deeper while licking around his lips. He seemed to be enjoying my finger-fuck so I rolled his passive body over. He was now face down and waiting for me.

This would be the first time I had fucked a guy and I suppose I was a little unsure. I held his buttocks apart while trickling on the last of the honey. I licked him which caused another "alahla" but my main purpose was to drool in saliva as lubricant. I was venturing into the unknown and felt alive and young again. I pushed in my first finger to spread him inside. Then I moved up him and brought the head of my penis into position. I pushed slowly to find that I was slightly out. Adjusting and holding his buttocks apart, it started to go in. He groaned. I moved my hands to hold his as I pushed gently but firmly in. He was clenching my hands hard but no longer moaning. It felt fantastic! I was finally having the benefits of being gay! When I was all the way in, I paused, savouring the moment and not wanting to come straight away. I supported myself on my elbows, still holding his hands in mine and started to move slowly out and in. Each motion brought a wave of ecstasy. This was incredible. I was not on the same planet I had been on this morning.

As I gained in confidence, I picked up to a steady rhythm. I came out a couple of times which he found funny. As I felt near to orgasm, I slowed down and pushed my arms under his chest. It was hard to think of this as the waiter who playfully brought me cups of coffee I hadn"t asked for. He was naked, smelly and I had my penis in him. I kissed a temple as my rhythm started to become erratic. I felt weak and dizzy but nothing was going to stop me. Then with one huge over-powering wave of bliss I came. I closed my eyes and started to recover my breath.

I didn"t withdraw from him. Instead I held on to him and rolled us both over so that he was on top, both facing up with my penis still in him. I reached for his. When my right hand found it I was reminded how much longer it was than mine. It was stiff but his body was limp and apparently helpless. I started to pull him off as I do myself and that seemed too much stimulation for him as his body started contracting straight away. I slowed down. It was a truly beautiful penis, smooth, hard, straight and long. Mine was throbbing inside his red-hot bottom. I pulled faster now as he started to gasp and tremble. He came again. There was less volume this time and it didn"t reach so far. He collapsed on me with a series of sighs. We lay there on top of the sheets, his body on mine, my penis still in him. He eventually rolled over, pulling my penis out, to my left side. He put his right arm over my chest. His beautiful eyes beaming into mine, head to head on the pillow. He spoke to me gently in Turkish but he didn"t expect a reply. He kissed my lips once then moved away and up. I admired his beautiful naked body as he walked to the bathroom.

He turned and beckoned me to follow him. He had a cheeky smile. "What now?" I thought. He stepped into the bath and I followed. He turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature. As we faced each other getting wet, our partially erect penises overlapped. I could see his was a good couple of inches longer than mine and a twinge of envy returned. I couldn"t understand if it was so big why nothing had ever showed in his trousers. He shampooed my hair. Some soap went in my eyes but it rinsed out quickly. This was a new pleasure and I started to harden up again. He washed under my arms and my front, stopping short of my now erect penis. Then he turned to my back and buttocks. He rubbed the bar of soap right into my crack and then I felt his penis go in. It slipped straight in and it didn"t hurt as I expected. I lowered myself a little and braced myself against the tiled wall. He said something and put one hand on my waist and the other he used to rub soap onto my erection. As he thrusted he pulled me off. He had a firm hand and a very firm penis. This was exquisite. The shower added to the whole-body sensation. He was talking away in Turkish, high on sex, shouting out as if he was cheering on a horse in a race. He was a real stud and I was riding him. He got faster and noticeably harder and bigger inside me. His cheering turned to panting as he approached the finish. He pushed in deep and hard and held my waist as he climaxed. His head sunk on my back for a moment then he withdrew. Now as we faced, my penis was pointing up in the air and his was pretty much horizontal. It made his look even bigger. I lathered my hands and washed it, rubbing up and down its length. Magnificent!

We finished our shower, dried and lay down side by side in the bed holding hands. This felt more than sex but we each knew that there was no future for us. Being Turkish, he was expected to marry. I had to return to England and he to his hotel. I think we were having similar thoughts. I fell asleep with aches in unusual places.

His early morning departure woke me. We kissed once and said "see you later".

I washed off the stain from my linen pants and dried them with the hairdryer. I checked out and returned to the other hotel for breakfast. Mustafa brought me a coffee, wishing me a formal "good morning". I reciprocated and we smiled. I looked down and there was not the slightest hint of that huge penis. As he walked away, I imagined that gorgeous body under his clothes and got another hard-on. It was the best coffee ever.

The following day was Mustafa"s day off. I wanted to spend more time with him but I knew it was the one day he had to do his washing, play football with his friends and generally chill-out away from the hotel. I respected that. I was pleasantly surprised then when he approached me during lunch asked if I wanted to go to the hamam with him the next day. I would have done his washing and polished his shoes if he had asked me. I was totally smitten. I think that he felt the obligation to honour his word and actually get me to the hamam.

At dinner, at which Mustafa never worked, two waiters and the barman all said something about the hamam and/or Mustafa. He must have told them and I felt a little let down. Why would he tell them? Am I a laughing stock or is he proud of his conquest with me? I still didn"t understand him.

We met outside the hotel at 4pm, just as two days before. He had caught the hotel"s bus from the personnel lodge which was timed to coincide with staff changeover. He was already there and seemed pleased to see me. He shook my hand as is the Turkish way and we set off walking again, this time he held my hand practically all the way. The only reaction from people we passed was a couple of smiles from elderly foreign ladies. I had taken the precaution of wearing briefs and these kept things well supported and under control.

The hamam was located in part of a large building that was once a hospital. Mustafa spoke with the receptionist and obtained the local"s price of 15 lira each, plus 10 lira to have use one of the small rooms off the main hamam. Foreigners were usually charged four times these rates. There was quite an exchange between Mustafa and the receptionist and I didn"t follow it all.

We undressed in a rather scruffy changing room, wrapped ourselves in the supplied pestermals (traditional hamam towels) and proceeded to the main hot room. I failed to catch site of Mustafa"s flacid penis - something I was driven to do. The hot room was entirely marble-clad with the central hot slab and most of the walls being grey-veined while the floor was white marble. Around the central slab were the fountains with their copper bowls used for washing and three doors leading to the private rooms, one of which we had reserved. We lay side by side on the central slab, sweating in the heat and humidity. There were just two other people there, both middle-aged Turkish men.

Our masseurs arrived and directed us to our anti-room. This was surprisingly small with a marble slab around the same size as a single bed. The masseurs were young, late teens or low twenties, acceptably attractive and also wearing pestermals. Ours were taken off us and placed on the slab for us to lie on. We laid head-to-head, chests down and turned our heads to face each other. The heat from the slab and close proximity of Mustafa totally naked started to arouse me. I knew the masseurs would have seen everything before, discretion was their business and so I was relaxed.

They poured warm water over us from head to foot from a marble basin into which water never stopped running. They scrubbed our feet and legs with a rough cloth mitten with mine singing all the time. My masseur jumped on the slab and knelt one leg either side of my legs. He scrubbed my back and neck, finishing with my buttocks. He spent a long time on my buttocks and I got completely hard. They rinsed us again and asked us to turn over. I obliged revealing my erection which he promptly covered with his pestermal. He was wearing rather large, fake Adidas navy shorts underneath.

As Mustafa turned, I finally saw his tiny flacid penis. It was barely a button and totally betrayed his huge erect endownment. My masseur scrubbed and rinsed my front just catching my erect penis a couple of times. He stopped singing briefly while they inflated what looked like white pillowcases which they squeezed to release a massive quantity soapy foam, covering us from neck to toe. Straddling me once again this time with his back to me he massaged my feet and legs with the suds. His hands were firm and his slight body very strong. He went right up the inside of my thighs touching my balls several times. He turned around, kneeling over me and lowering himself so that my hard penis was touching his bottom through his shorts. "Good?" he asked. "Good", I answered. He carried on singing, rocking gently to rub his shorts against my penis while he massaged my upper body. I looked at Mustafa who knew what was going on as he had a big smile on his face. His masseur remained with his feet on the ground. Mustafa said something to the masseurs involving "extra". I soon found out what this was.

Mustafa"s masseur re-inflated the pillow case. He removed my pestermal and covered both our mid-sections with foam. This was looking promising. Our masseurs each straddled their clients, the first time in Mustafa"a case and proceeded to give us willy massages! Mine had amazing technique. Using both hands there was a pattern of very rapid tapping, shaking and rubbing in succession punctuated with pauses of gentle squeezing. I turned my head to look at Mustafa, my mouth and eyes wide open in utter disbelief. He laughed and looked up to the ceiling saying "alahla". My legs were tensing up and I knew I wouldn"t survive much of this. All the time my masseur sung. Sure enough I came pretty quickly and the masseur rinsed off the semen and told me to turn over. I noticed that he was not at all aroused. Mustafa lasted a little longer. I heard the masseur commenting on his size after he had come.

I had a soapy massage of my feet legs, back and again finishing on my bottom. His fingers went right in to the crack, over and over again. Mustafa said a couple of words and the masseurs left us. We were still covered in soap. Mustafa moved over on to me, caressing my head and neck and parted my legs with his. He slid that long, beautiful cock all the way in to me. It felt as if my lungs had been completely expelled of air, I was literally breathless for a moment. As he started to thrust, short, shallow gasps sustained me. I may have died and gone to heaven I am not sure. Mustafa seemed more confident and assured. His chest slid back and forth over my back in the soapy suds, his arms held mine. There were a lot of wet slapping noises and which must have been heard in the main hot room. I was feeling very faint when he finally climaxed. I got up and drank some water from the cold tap. Mustafa beckoned me back to the slab and shouted for the masseurs to return.

On the walk back, I started to wonder how many hotel guests Mustafa may have slept with and that thought ate away as his attraction. It wasn"t right for me to ask him and in any case he may not have been honest in his reply. It had been a pleasure and, at long last, I had lost my gay virginity with a very pleasant, well mannered and beautiful young man. Now, it was time to move on. Perhaps I would see him again if I came back to Turkey, perhaps not.

I will never forget the adventure of my first time, licking honey off that gorgeous cock, the amazing willy massage and loud, reverberant slapping sounds as we had sex in the hamam.


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