Has anyone ever been to Turkey? If you haven’t, I really recommend that you do. The weather is beautiful, the resorts are luscious and the men are tall, dark and handsome.
Now, after my Indian adventure, you would have thought that I’d had enough of holidaying with my best friend, Tullene. But no, clearly I’m a glutton for punishment.
The only annoying thing about Turkey is that you can’t walk more than a hundred yards down the road without someone trying to sell you something. Whether it be a boat trip, apple tea or a fake football shirt.
But the one thing I didn’t mind getting stopped and sold in the street was the offer of a Turkish bath. When you have a tall, dark, handsome man offering you a foam rub down and an oil massage, any proper gay man answers yes.
The next thing we knew, we were inside the Turkish bath and were very excited. We got ourselves dressed appropriately, Tullene in a swimsuit, me in a pair of Speedos. And we got taken down for part one of the Turkish bath.
We were laid out on a round, marble slab. And they began washing us from toe to head in this delightful foam. Ooh, I tell you, I felt like a gay Marilyn Munroe in that iconic bath photo shoot.
After we’d had buckets of hot water lashed over us to wash off the foam, we were moved onto part two of our spa experience. The sea salt exfoliation Massage.
I couldn’t wait to have all my dead skin cells scrubbed away. As any fake tan addict will tell you, a full body exfoliation is just what one needs every now and again to avoid crusty elbows and knees.
But the men doing the scrub were rather rough. I felt like I was being exfoliated by Hulk Hogan. I started screaming because it felt like they were ripping the skin fresh from my calves.
Now, before I tell you the next part of the experience, I must make you aware of Tullene’s nickname. We all call her T-bag. Probably something to do with her name beginning with T and the fact she’s an old bag.
So whilst I was having the skin ripped from my calves, I started shouting “T-bag! T-bag!”, to convey to Tullene I was in pain.
But the Scottish boys, who were on the marble slab with us, obviously didn’t know this was Tullene’s nickname. So I suddenly heard Scottish accents shouting,
“He wants them to T-bag him!”
Oh, the cringe-worthy embarrassment.
After surviving the skin peeling calf exfoliation and the Scottish T-bagging, we were swiftly moved onto our oil Massage. As we walked along, I saw one of the male therapists winking at me. Well, I think he was winking at me. That or he had a nervous twitch. I couldn’t work out which one.
The male therapist suddenly stopped and grabbed me by the shoulder. He whispered in my ear in his seductive Turkish accent, “you’re beautiful!”
Well, I blushed. Although you probably couldn’t tell as the 46-degree Turkish heat had sunburnt my face.
As we carried on walking, something took me completely by surprise. I suddenly felt a finger slip up my ring piece, along with some material from my speedos. Well, my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. How forward. Not that I was complaining.
He took us into our very own beauty room, which had two Massage beds waiting for us.
“Lay on the beds! Face down!” He barked.
We did as we were told but Tullene looked up. He obviously wasn’t happy at her disobedience.
“FACE DOWN!” He barked again at Tullene.
We both started doing our nervous laughs that we’re famous for. And then I felt another tap on my shoulder. As I looked up, I was greeted by a rather large Turkish erection. It practically took my eye out.
But it seemed such a shame to waste a perfectly good erection. So we swiftly asked Tullene to leave the room.
