Turkish Adventure

Dear reader! This story is the result of a collaborative creation. About a year ago, I read a wonderful story by an author named Paul, which had, in my unenlightened opinion, only one flaw: it ended at the most interesting point. So, I took the risk of continuing it and releasing it all together. You'll figure out what's mine and what's Paul's—it's all signed. Yours, V. M.

Paul

Finally arrived in blessed Turkey. My husband won't be here for another week, and I have a real opportunity to let loose to the fullest while he's away. Honestly, my husband suffers from premature ejaculation, and lately he's been

so frequently interested in 'blue' topics that I've started to wonder if he's changed his orientation. Well, whatever—I'm here, and he's still there for now. The hotel was magnificent, right on the seashore, 5 stars with all the trimmings. I went for a swim, sunbathed a bit on the beach, looked around. There were plenty of males here, of various nationalities. I decided that evening I would definitely hook up with someone. For the evening's in-house disco, I put on my pink mini skirt, a tube top without a bra, and light shoes. I checked myself out, noted the sexy belly button piercing and the tattoo on my tailbone, provocatively peeking out from the top of the skirt. I went hunting. I hadn't even sat down at a table when a Turk, pleasant-looking and interestingly muscular, sat down next to me. I won't recount the half-hour of small talk about nothing. Then came an invitation to see his room, and I agreed immediately. Entering his room, I immediately took off my top, letting him know I was at his service. The Turk reacted more than calmly. He took off his T-shirt and summer trousers; he wasn't wearing underwear. He lay on the bed and nodded towards his member, which was gaining a firm stance. I shed the rest of my clothes and threw myself at his tool. The cock was magnificent, thick and not very long (my favorite size). I licked its head, ran my tongue along the shaft, licked his tight balls, and began vigorously sucking his dick. After about five minutes of active blowjob, I was already wet between my legs, and I climbed on top, inserting his cock into me. I started working my hips actively, and since I was already on the verge of arousal, within a few minutes I came with a piercing moan. After slumping to the side a bit, I glanced at the Turk; he was grinning contentedly—his stamina was excellent. He got on his knees, turned me over doggy-style, and entered from behind. He fucked me like that for about ten minutes; during that time, I managed to come twice, while he just panted, and his balls slapped against me. Then we changed positions three more times, after which he finally came right inside me. I was ecstatic; I hadn't had sex like that in a long time.

He gallantly poured me some wine, and we drank a little. He spoke Russian well, so there were no issues with understanding. After a few glasses of wine, the conversation turned to sex, business, money, and he asked, as if casually, "I see you like to fuck; don't you want to earn a little money doing this while your husband is away? You could make about two thousand euros in a week."

I liked the idea. He informed me that for this, I needed to pass a small endurance test, and if I didn't mind, we could do it today. I didn't mind, and after quickly getting dressed, we went out. We arrived at some nightclub, which the Turk called an adult club with a reality show. Going inside, I saw a typical strip bar, with a stage, a podium with a pole, and naked women dancing around it.

I thought dancing naked in front of men wouldn't be too difficult. The Turk took me backstage and said that in a couple of minutes, I would go out with one of the male partners, and we were to act out a sadomasochism scene. They put a collar and leather boots on me and took all my other clothes. When it was our turn, the Turk announced something from the stage, and everyone whistled wildly. My partner led me onto the stage; after a short dance, we played out the S&M scene. As the act continued, they brought out something like a table with restraints for hands and legs at the top and bottom. They laid me face down on this table, fastened my legs to the lower part of the legs of the table, and my hands to the lower part of the other legs. I was in a doggy-style position, after which he gagged my mouth. A second later, I felt someone's cock start to enter my pussy. Only now did I understand what "reality show" meant. The partner fucked me thoroughly, coming on my back, after which they rolled me down along with the table, and any man who wanted could enjoy me by fucking me from behind. After about the fifteenth man, they got tired of my pussy and moved on to "working on" my ass. At the same time, they pulled the gag out of my mouth and started fucking my mouth. I lost track of how many men went through me—thirty or forty—the whole process drove me wild with arousal, and I came repeatedly, every time another pair (in my mouth and from behind) had me. This fucking lasted until morning; as old men left, new ones arrived from somewhere, and it continued until about 7 a.m., when I started to pass out from the high and exhaustion. Only then did the Turk who brought me untie me from the table and put me to sleep right there in the club.

I woke up because someone was fucking my ass. I was lying on some cot in a storage room. I turned around and in the semi-darkness saw that it was the same Turk who had accompanied me to the club yesterday. I started to move my hips for him, wiggling my ass; after a couple of minutes, I came, and about five minutes later, he came too, right inside me. After that, he took me to the bathroom; I took a shower, washed up, and came out to the Turk. He was talking on his mobile. When he finished, he said I had passed the test and that there were already first clients. He gave me a short white skirt, a small top, and summer high-heeled shoes. I put on makeup, and we left.

V. M.

The taxi stopped near one of the hotels. An elderly Turkish woman met us near the service entrance.

— This is Zeynob, you'll work for her. I'll pick you up in the morning; if you want, you can return," my companion informed me. After that, he left. The Turkish woman firmly took my hand and, examining me intently with sharp black eyes, led me into the hotel. We walked through some corridors, then took the elevator for quite a while, and finally stopped at the door of one of the rooms. Knocking, the Turkish woman opened the door and pushed me inside.

— Natasha!" proclaimed my employer. In response—applause.

— Merhaba!"—that's "hello" in Turkish. That's how all the clients later greeted me.

Zeynob received a stack of bills from one of them, left, and I was left alone with three quite respectable Turks. By the look of them—small businessmen. They greedily examined me without getting up from their chairs and the sofa. Well, then. I need to show the goods. I slowly turned around among them, playing with my skirt and fully revealing everything hidden beneath it, then, continuing my pirouette, I took off that useless rag and, also without rushing, freed myself from the top. Two of my clients were already fumbling in their flies; one even pulled out his pinkish-brownish treasure and started jerking it with his fist. The third stared spellbound at my tits. With small steps of an obedient Eastern woman, I approached them, knelt down, and helped the two slower ones free their pistons, while the fastest one, as a reward, got my mouth first. I started jerking off the other two. For a while, all three grunted and snorted contentedly; three cocks gradually filled with strength, and my lips fluttered over all these buds. Their hands busily felt all parts of my body they could reach. My tits and the back of my head got it especially—each tried to push my mouth deeper onto his pole when I serviced him.

But my stallions were already pushing me towards the shower. Before I could wash off the cum and freshen up, Zeynob appeared. She grumbled disapprovingly at me, pointing a wrinkled finger at the clock. Ah, timed work—someone somewhere else also needs my holes!

Somehow finishing my makeup, which made my pretty face look completely whorish, I wrapped myself in a towel from the shower, grabbed the top, skirt, jumped into my shoes. Again, Zeynob firmly grabbed my hand and dragged me to the elevator. In the corridor, a bellboy boy watched me with interest.

We went down a few floors, and Zeynob led me into another, clearly cheaper room, simultaneously pulling the towel off me. Again followed the sacral:

— Natasha!"—after all, that's what all Russian prostitutes are called in the East.

— Merhaba!

This time, five young guys of a rather proletarian appearance were staring at me. They reeked of pungent male sweat. One immediately groped me between the legs, another grabbed my chest, someone's paw greedily slid over my ass. Zeynob barked something abruptly, and one of the guys counted out several bills for her. Suspiciously examining them, pointing a finger at me, the clock, and threatening me, the old woman left.

However, I only guessed about this because I was on my hands and knees on a couch, sucking one of the Turks, and a second was already making full use of my pussy. This didn't last long—three were left without my favors. At first, they just swapped places in front of and behind me, with those behind blindly sticking their bolts into my pussy or ass, creating a cheerful commotion that smoothly turned into a typical Eastern squabble.

Zeynob stuck her head in the door. At that time, I was sucking and jerking off the whole crew in turn. One, the most responsible, jumped up, rummaged in the pockets of trousers, shirts, and jackets scattered around the room, took out money, and handed it to my pimp. She again looked at them very suspiciously, counted out part, put the rest on the coffee table, pointed at the clock, croaked something in Turkish, and left again.

The boys perked up, and the marathon with cocks in all holes resumed. But everyone got tired of jumping. They laid me chest-down on the table and took turns fucking me from the front and back, as at the beginning, spanking my ass juicily. I came continuously. Finally, they did too. They immediately shoved me into the shower, quickly washed off the cum that covered my back, ass, face, tits, stomach, and even hair. This time, I even managed to touch up my makeup and put on my "uniform" before Zeynob came in. Since I was ready on time, the old woman grumbled much more favorably. And simultaneously escorted me to the next room.

This time, there were only two clients, and they were Europeans.

— Merhaba!

Wow, even they've become Turkified!

— Natasha!"—Zeynob recommended me. She got the money and left.

Yes, please. I took off the excess and presented myself to them in all my glory. And so they wouldn't miss anything—I turned around and then sat on the sofa, spreading my thighs wide. Admire! I just also wanted to get fucked... So did they. At least one of them. He quickly took off his shoes, shirt, trousers... Well, he was even more naked than I—I at least had black fishnet stockings, red platform shoes, and a cross on my neck. He had only a cross. But what a cock!

And he carried this wonderful cock at the ready straight to my mouth! Yes, yes, yes, I hadn't tasted such candy in a long time. Already for fifteen minutes. I missed it. The cock rushed into my mouth, and the second one, oh my, what did he pay for? Watching us, the second one just jerked off. Jerk. I still had two holes unfilled. But the vulgar masturbator didn't understand how wrong he was and continued his dark deed with great diligence. The dick in my throat kept growing and growing, and this one ran up and, laughing, came right on my chest. For ambiance, of course. After that, he took out a huge camera and started snapping me in the most unambiguous poses. And that, damn it, was arousing. But my hole longed to be fucked too. I started caressing it. Meanwhile, I moved from the sofa to the floor; now I was sucking, kneeling in front of the client. The paparazzo (he prompted our move) kept snapping. It'll be fun if he posts this photoshoot online (and he clearly will). My husband loves to browse such pages. He'll see his wife, naked, covered in cum, taking a stranger's cock in her mouth—he'll be pleased!

And we were ready for new entertainment. Now my fucker sat on the sofa, and I could bounce on his horse. Wonderful! About time. I impaled myself with all my might on his powerful pillar, wheezed with delight, he also grunted something. The photographer filmed, forgetting to hide his manhood, and I noticed how it slowly came to life even without the help of handiwork. See, he could have fucked instead of peeping!

Oops! The client pulled me off his dick, threw me doggy-style on the couch, and immediately stuffed it into my ass! Oh, how good. I missed that too! Come on, come on, don't sleep! Came...

But I need to work. I sat on the couch, my benefactor stood before me. He fed me his cock, again drenching my chest in the process. The paparazzo snapped. I smiled widely into the lens with my cum-splattered face.

— Excellent!

And that's it? Oh, right. I barely had time to make myself presentable when the old woman appeared again and dragged me to a new address.

— Merhaba!

In the room sat Europeans again, and this time many. Wow, six!

Yes, this is even cooler than with the Turks. Zeynob, having received the money, disappeared, giving me an expressive look in the eyes and at the clock. The boys offered a drink. Not a bad idea! Actually, everything inside me had dried up! I sprawled on the small sofa. A guy on the right, a guy on the left, I threw my legs over their thighs—examine the goods. We drank, after which two or three immediately started stripping me. Thanks, I became naked in an instant. And even took off the cross. Mustn't forget it. Grandma's.

But it's time to get to business! My luxurious male harem escorted me to a huge family-sized bed: first, I needed to work with my mouth again. I was ready. One after another, cocks alternated in my mouth; I helped some with my hands. I couldn't really tell, there were so many of them. And somewhat clueless. They could have fucked my ass and between my legs, but they were like ours—collective farm style. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that those

who didn't get into my hands or mouth lined up at the edge of the bed and jerked off in unison.

Fuck yeah! Now that's a scene. That's where a photographer is needed. Oh, and he's here! The same one who filmed me with the previous client! When did he appear? But that's not my business.

Someone already came. And right on me. Could it be from my blowjob? I'm not rushing, I'd like to get fucked! Ah, no, it was one of the jerkers who overdid it. Or maybe the photographer gave an assignment. He likes to photograph me covered in cum.

And here's a new assignment. They put me doggy-style. About time. Strong hands hugged my hips, and one of the already seen, sucked, or jerked-off cocks entered me with a swing and began methodically pounding. After him, a second one. He laid me on my side but still fucked from behind... A third put me doggy-style again and, ignoring my pussy, headed for my ass. Let him. I had already come three times and would come again! Into the pussy again! Into the ass again! Looks like they were already on their second round... Someone came on my back...

Aren't we getting carried away? The old woman will come, and we're in full swing? Then I remembered that when they put me doggy-style the second time, someone came in. Apparently, Zeynob was paid for the continuation of the orgy.

I came repeatedly, screamed, cried