This is the account of the second near miss of my first 2026 Istanbul trip.
Day One
I was walking down Istiklal Cd. in Şişhane near Galatasaray high school1 Monday around 11 PM when I saw a Turkish girl with puffy hair and tight gym leggings. Feeling a DNA-tug I opened immediately. To my surprise, this girl spoke fluent English - a rare occurrence. She 24 and was an ambitious lawyer.
Turns out she lived in Indiana until her mid-teens before returning to Istanbul. The set itself went great. I remember stacking on her curvy hips and the fact that her crazy hair makes me wild. She lapped it up. I was lucky: she lived just a few streets from my place so we decided to walk home together.
On the way we talked about Turkish TV-shows, politics, racism2, and other delights. I could tell she liked me. We got some Çiğ köfte at my favorite place next to my house and went for a walk in Maçka park. It was all rather romantic. I bounced her to the same bench I kissed the Turkish virgin a week earlier for my own self-amusement, but it was taken, so we sat on an opposite bench.
I was starting to blow up the love bubble until two flimsy Gypsy teens showed up to hassle us for their shitty roses. I refused, but they stayed and wouldn’t leave. Evidently, they were upset that a blonde white guy is stealing “their” women. Some verbal back and forth ensued where they started blabbering all kinds of things in Turkish at us while I sat there calmly smoking my cigarette. I could feel my girl getting tense so I had enough of it: I stood up and pressed my chest into the taller one and told them to fuck off. Although they kept rattling they did leave the scene.
The girl later told me they were saying “we’ll stab your eyes out you Christian and boil them in your blood.” All rather shocking. I could feel that my calm demeanor throughout the situation increased her attraction towards me, but the experience left her very uncomfortable. I couldn’t kiss her tonight, I figured and bounced her to the bar in the park for some tea. I walked her back home and agreed to meet her on Thursday later for cocktails.
Day Two
I met her Thursday around 10 PM in front of Caffè Nero near Osmanbey metro and bounced her straight to Ikinci cocktail & pub. The vibe was clearly man-to-woman and alcohol flowed freely: We ordered a two shots of some Turkish liqueur while we waited for our cocktails. About 30 minutes in we started the Questions Game where I confirmed that, luckily, this one was not a virgin. I kissed her about 40 minutes in under the pretense of “tasting my favorite Turkish delight”. About 60 minutes in I felt I had built enough comfort and was ready to bounce her. “Let’s go listen to some music at my place,” I suggested. Physically, I felt her wobble a bit, but she said “alright, let’s go”.
This bar was (strategically chosen) in my street. So in less than a minute we were at my front door. She entered without resistance and sat on my couch. I gave her some space as I smoked a cigarette by the window. Although, soon I returned on the couch for a furious make-out session. Once I got her nice and horny, I bounced her to the bed where we took off all our clothes, except her panties.
She had nice breasts but they were scarred at the bottom. “I had breast cancer,” she said. I lied to her that they looked fine and that I liked them. Soon I was too horny to care as I slobbered on them like a hungry dog. At that point she was playing with my dick.
It took about 30 mins of LMR-busting to get her panties off, but soon I was fingering her. She seemed to enjoy it so I was already celebrating my notch as I was going in for the kill.
“No, I don’t want to have sex,” she said. “Not this again,” I thought. I mentally prepared myself for more LMR-busting and got to work. Over the course of an hour, we exchanged oral, I made her cum, got as far as rubbing my dick all over her pussy and even inserting the tip. Yet I couldn’t claim my notch. At some point I just got fed up with her shenanigans, pulled her face down on my dick and came over her lips and mouth as a fuck you.
She gave me the prattle that she’s still close with a guy she dated and would feel like a cheater if she’d fuck me3. Fair enough. I walked her home and bought myself a beer and a pack of Red’s to end the night.
Two months later, as I’m writing this blog, I realize I should just have put it in. She was so horny she wouldn’t have cared, and most likely, would have loved it. I’m still held back too much by my condition to be a decent lad.