Seducing the Bartender In Cappadocia

It's called playing the long game!

Exhibitionism has many forms. I’m a sucker for a good selfie, for instance. In a scantily clad outfit for everybody to drool over. Or just a nice pristine vacation shot that makes everybody jealous, that’s another form of exhibitionism really, isn’t it?

I guess travel exhibitionism is why I decided to fly from Istanbul all the way to the middle of Turkey. I had seen all these amazing photographs of this place called Cappadocia and I had to book the next flight out. I wanted colorful balloons all over my Instagram so everybody could see how colorful my life was. Pathetic, I know.

You might not have heard of Cappadocia, but you have definitely seen the photos on your Insta feed. It’s the place where all the beautiful people sit on rooftops while dozens of colorful hot air balloons fly past them. Cappadocia also has a unique landscape of “fairy chimneys.” To me, they look like giant stone cocks but we can call them fairy chimneys if that’s what the Turks want.

My flight landed shortly after midnight, and the hotel shuttle was promptly waiting for me at the exit gates.

“You Christine?” the man asked, pointing to his sign which had my name scribbled on it.

“That’s me,” I said. He grabbed my bags and walked towards a dinky, beat-up Camry in the parking lot.

The car ride was dead silent. Maybe he was shy or maybe his English wasn’t that good. Or maybe I was just picked up by a murderer at midnight who was going to chop up my body in the middle of all the fairy chimneys.

“Excuse me,” I asked, breaking the silence. “Do you know how I can book a hot air balloon ride for tomorrow morning?”

The man stared at me through the rearview mirror. His eyes were a smoldering shade of black, just like his thick beard. “Of course.”

The man said he’d book me on a hot air balloon trip the following day. From the identity plate on the shuttle I saw his name was Cem.

“Your name is Cum?” I asked as he unloaded my bags in my room.

“It’s spelled C, E, M. Pronounced Jem.”

Turkish is a weird language.

I admired the room while from the corner of my eye, I saw Cem admiring me. His sultry eyes scanned my body from the bottom up, only stopping for a lingering stare at my thighs and backside. I smiled at him, and he quickly looked away. Cem, you dirty bastard.

We said goodnight and he closed the door. But soon, I realized that tonight was my only night to explore Cappadocia nightlife. If I had to wake up at 5 in the morning the next day, then at least I could have some fun in the city tonight. After a shower, naked, I wrapped myself up in the hotel robe and walked to the lobby to find Cem.

“Any bars open right now?” I asked.

He stared at me from behind the counter. “No. No bars.”

Damnit again.

I looked around the small lobby, “Do you sell any beer or wine here?”

“Only wine.” He pointed to the shelf behind me. I retrieved the bottle, which had a blank label that simply said, red wine. His eyes again were fixated on me, but this time, they were looking at my bare legs.

“Can you open this for me?” I said coyly, batting my eyelashes.

Cem raised his hands in the air and took a step back from the counter. “Sorry, I am not allowed to touch.”

For a second, I forgot I was in a Muslim country. It was forbidden for him to consume or even touch a single drop of alcohol. So yes, he was a bartender that never touched a bottle. Instead, Cem pulled out a bottle opener from his desk and pushed it across the counter.

I smirked. What else was Cem not allowed to touch?

I grabbed the opener and sat down on the couch across the room facing him. I opened the bottle and took a swig of the mysterious wine. It wasn’t anything special, but I could already feel its effects.

I slowly slid my legs apart, feeling the cold breeze rise between my legs. Cem didn’t move a muscle but continued to stare. I took another sip from the bottle and licked the drop from my lips. His gaze was so serious, so intense, that I could feel myself getting instantly wet. I closed my eyes and imagined his beard tickling the inside of my thighs as he licked my clit.

“Do you get many American tourists here in the hotel?” I asked, making small talk. I set down the bottle and peeled open the inner part of the robe with my hand. Now my pussy was exposed.

Cem licked his lips, “Some.”

The first moment I expose my pussy during exhibitionism like this, I get a whole shiver up and down my back. I love it so much. I mean, think about it. There it is, my pussy, exposed! I know, it sounds dumb when I write it. But that’s the experience I love.

You have to picture my pussy right there between my thighs. He’s not going to be able to see my labia or clit — not yet.

“Where do most of your tourists come from?” My fingers moved from my knee towards my inner thigh. At the same time I spread my thighs a little wider, so now I was fairly sure he would be able to see my clit and the top of my slit. Another shiver went down my back. This exposure of my ‘lady button’ always brings me that second shiver, and it is even stronger than the first.

I feel so vulnerable, I guess, when I expose my pussy like this, when I open up and just present it to the male gaze. And something about Cem’s refusal to open the wine, him making me open it myself, made me want to open my thighs to him. And there it was, my wine. My pussy offered for him to drink with his eyes. Will he drink it? Oh, yes. I saw his eyes glazing. A slight smile at the corner of his lips. And his breathing quickening. He was taking a good long drink of my pussy, and I loved it. I let out a little sigh.

“You know, Germany. Italy. Some from Canada,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off my hand.

My legs opened wider. Now he could see the entirety of my snatch. His eyes seemed to bulge for a moment. And he breathed in quickly.

“That’s a lot of tourists,” I replied. I took my other hand and slid it over my breast underneath the robe. My nipples were stiff as dowels, poking out of the silk material of the robe.

“Yes, Cappadocia is a very popular place. Many people come here all year round.”

My fingers danced up my thighs until the tips reached my clit.

“I can’t wait to see it during the daytime,” I said. Then I added a completely incongruous moan to the end of that sentence: “Ohhhhh!”

I couldn’t help it, it just jumped out of my mouth as I rubbed my clit back and forth. I was breathing rapidly now and the moans were irrepressible.

Cem leaned closer to his desk. Was he hiding his erection?

“You are going to have a great hot air balloon ride.” His voice cracked as I tilted my head back and moaned.

“I’ve never, ohhh, been in a hot air balloon ride before, mmm…”

“It is very beautiful from the sky.”

I could feel myself getting close, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to finish on the couch. The wine was starting to kick in and I needed something more than my fingers to get me off tonight. I stood up, letting the robe fall open exposing my entire body.

“Oops,” I said, slowly bending over to pick up the wine.

“Let me help you,” Cem said as he rushed out from behind the desk. I glanced at his crotch but didn’t see anything erect propping his pants up. This man was stronger than glass.