A Missed Opportunity

It was the winter of 2011 and I was backpacking through Turkey. I heard of this hammam, next to the Bospherus, that was notorious for its 'rough' massages. I decided to go there to warm up. I had recently graduated from university, and I was naïve, although not virginal. I have strawberry blonde hair (almost gold), grey-blue eyes, pink nipples and I am uncut – quite a novelty in Turkey back then. In the hammam, the Turkish daddy-bears made my heart beat out of control. All the blood rushed to my head. I went to the next room, and sat down. I thought I was alone, and sat there just caressing my cock from all the excitement. However, I began noticing the shape of a person through the plumes of steam. He had dark hair and a slender body. He was young, my age – twenty-one or twenty-two. Clean shaven. He had a (stereotypically) gargantuan Turkish nose, and sad-sad big eyes. He slowly moved towards me, until he was so close I could feel the sweat that had collected on his shoulders rubbing on mine. I could see a long, thick cock through the wet white towel. He was hard. He looked me straight in the eyes and said: “I wish I was dead.” I was shocked, and my childishness nature and religious upbringing did not allow me to respond to his statement. I got up and left. Now that a decade has passed, I regret my response. This was a missed opportunity. I shouldn't have walked away. I should have stayed, and given him a hug. I should have told him: “Nothing is going to hurt you baby!” Like that Cigarettes After Sex song. I should have kissed him then, and then invite him back to my cheap hotel room in the Sultanahmet. And then… I should have allowed him to ravish me, while the adhan was blaring. To fuck me with that long, thick dick… to fuck away his pain. Robert, from Cape Town