I was attending a large scientific meeting in the ancient city of Istanbul. The venue was obviously selected for its tourist appeal. I was just checking in at my hotel, a franchise operation of a french hotel chain, and I was standing in line in front of the receptionist's desk when somebody poked my ribs from behind. I wheeled around to look into the loughing, beautiful eyes of Marja. She had been a junior staff scientist together with me when we both received our training at a large scientific institute in the United States, a plain looking girl, not ugly, with beautiful blue-grey eyes but with irregular teeth and mud-coloured hair. Her clothing was even worse than my own who considers himself a true slob. We had joined the institute at the same time and it was only natural for two transplants from Europe to stick together checking out garage sales to equip our modest households and bitching about the seemingly strange habits of our American colleagues.
Later when we became better integrated in our respective workplaces this relationship dwindled away and when I returned to my native Austria to take up a senior position I barely said good bye to her. But here she was again. She told me she had returned to her home town in Poland and was a senior staff scientist now. Since the conference would start only on the next morning we decided to meet in the lobby later do a first exploration of the city.
I quickly showered and changed from my usual nerd outfit - baggy blue jeans and baggy sweater - into a light cream-coloured suit which I had bought for the trip and which hung nicely from my 6'3'' frame. I used to compete as a rowing athlete when I was young and developed a nice physique but growing seniority had increased my girth over the years. However, in the last year I had found the time to work out on a regular basis. I had dropped over 30 pounds and I felt good about my body again. Hence the new suit.
Marja's eyes lit up appreciatively when she spotted me in the lobby. She, too, had changed and that prompted me to look at her more closely. Boy, she had not only changed her clothes. I had not noticed it earlier but she had developed into a very attractive woman. Her eyes were still beautiful, but the rest of her outer appearance had definitely cought up. Her hair was tinted reddish now and cut short which would have given her a boyish look had not her summer dress revealed her trim but definitely female figure. She was tall, but not too tall, about 5'10''. Her legs were long with smooth muscles moving gracefully as she walked. Her breasts were on the small side and it was obviously from the way they moved that she did not have to wear a bra. I must have looked a bit stupid gaping at her, and a little mischivous devil danced in her eyes when she asked whether I liked what I saw. Her grinning revealed that she must have had braces over the last years to correct her teeth. Regaining my composure I verbalized my appreciation of her appearance and asked whether she was ready for an evening about town. She said she was and we stepped out into the afternoon sun.
A gang of shoe shiners aggresively offered their services; I wanted to decline and hop into a cab that was waiting at the curb. Marja, however, felt inclined to have her brown leather shoes given a shine; she sat on a bench and one of the boys knelt down to apply polish. It became obvious soon that his attention was divided between her shoes and her legs. The evening breeze was playing with the seams of her summer dress and from his position he must have had a nice view. Marja did not seem to notice or care, when the boy was finally done she tipped him, got up and we hailed a taxi. We rode the cab across the Golden Horn into the Old City.
The Hagia Sophia was our first aim. However, there was a huge line at the entrance and more tourists approaching from two large tour buses. We decided to walk towards the Grand Bazaar first. On the way we were handed a flyer which cought our interest. There was an old Turkish Bath nearby, a hamami, and we both were tempted to try this unique experience. Needless to say, there are strictly separate baths for men and women, but we agreed to rendezvouz on the street in 90 minutes. There were a lot of tourists in the bath and hardly any turkish men, except for the attendants. Wrapped in a towel I was sitting in the warm, damp, highly domed bath room when one of the attendants approached me. After soaping down my body he gave me a thorough massage as well as further instructions for cleansing. I felt completely relaxed and invigourated when I left the bath 90 minutes later to meet Marja again. I had to wait for only 5 minutes until she joined me out on the street, her eyes sparkling and her skin glowing. Her body seemed to vibrate under the thin summer dress and she talked about the bath experience as something she had enjoyed immensely.
I said "Well, it was fun and relaxing."
She replied "It was fun, but it was exciting. There was this young woman, the masseuse, she washed me down and rubbed my entire body. She said, she liked my body and the color of my skin because western women are rare customers in the women's bath. I felt as if she was trying to make a pass at me, but she was nice about it and I liked it."
"Good for you. Would you rather we had met later so you'd have more time for your masseuse?" I asked jokingly. The quizzical look on my face prompted her reply:
"Envious? Was your masseuse not young?" she giggled.
When I told her that the attendants in the men's bath are all male and quite bulky she laughed and said "Tough luck for you."
While our banter was continuing we walked back towards the Hagia Sophia. Passing by a restaurant we felt hungry so we walked in and ordered a nice dinner with a caraffe of wine. The food was good, the conversation was fun, and a second and third caraffe of wine made their respective appearances and disappearances. We finally decided we had had enough and I picked up the modest bill. We walked to the Hagia Sophia which was closed to tourists now. We sat on a bench and watched the illuminated cathedral-turned-mosque. It seemed so natural for me to lay my right arm around her shoulders that I did not register it at first. When I realized it and started an apology she just put a finger on my lips and laid her head against my shoulder. So I was sitting there like a teenager on the first date contemplating my next move.
Her smell so close to me was working in synergy now with my blood alcohol to blow away any inhibitions. When I was tracing my fingertips playfully along her bare upper arm I felt gooseflesh and she leaned into me even more. Along with the gooseflesh I saw her nipples poking through her thin dress, and I could not resist brushing lightly over her breasts with my left hand. This was as far as I dared to go in public; there were policemen all over the place and I did not fancy being hauled into a police station for any violation against public morals. Marja looked up into my eyes, we passed one long look, and she seemed to understand my thoughts as if I had spoken out aloud. "Let's go back to hotel, Peter!" she said. During the cab ride back to the hotel we just sat there holding hands but in the hotel lobby I decided to take a chance. "Your room or mine?" I blurted out.
She seemed to consider. "Let's go each to our own rooms." My heart dropped. "I will brush my teeth and be with you in 10 minutes. What's your room number?"
I flushed with relief. She saw it and smiled her mischievous smile. I told her my room number and we both rode the elevator up. She gave me a light kiss before she left the cabin. I felt ten feet tall.
Back in my room I hurried to brush my teeth and I stuffed my clutter into the suitcase. Next I called room service and ordered a bottle of red wine and some cheese. I was barely finished with my preparations when Marja knocked on the door. When I opened she was wearing a bathrobe and a one pice swimsuit. I was looking at her incredulously. Did she plan to go to the pool? Yes she did!
"They have a nice pool on the roof" she said. "Let's swim first."
"All I'll be able to do is breast stroke" I quipped.
She laughed "I can't wait."
The room service arrived in the middle of this exchange and delivered wine and cheese.
"You don't have to make me drunk, I'll sleep with you anyway" she whispered into my ear as the waiter was placing the order on the table. I signed the bill and when the man left I dove into my suitcase looking for my swim shorts. I simply dropped my pants and shorts to put on the swim shorts which, of course, allowed her a full view of my semi-erect dick.
.... There is more of this story ...