TURKISH DELIGHT - part 1
by
Alex Birch
(M/F, N/C, consensual, sex...perhaps more sex than spanking)

This is another story first published in the British CP magazine 'Februs'.
It has not been posted to a newsgroup before.



The breeze blew strongly around the market stalls, paper bags drifting
through the air in the swirling wind as women clutched at their skirts and
babies in push chairs began to grizzle with the onset of the sudden cold.
'Oh Mummy, come on for God's sake ...!' the pretty blonde girl shouted
peevishly to her mother '...it's freezing!  Come on, let's go home!  What
are you looking at?  Those carpets are just tat.  Anyone can see that!'

Caroline Palmer stifled an angry rebuke.  If the kid was sometimes lippy she
was only a reflection of her mother after all ..selfish and impatient.
'Alright, alright, Stephanie ...' she said '...keep your hair on, I'm
coming.  This trip was your idea anyway, my girl!'  She knew her daughter
was right about the quality, but the ornate oriental patterns held her
spellbound as exciting images flashed through her mind which made her
shudder, her body glowing suddenly from a recent memory.  She lingered, her
fingers tracing a path around the pattern of the nearest carpet, her mind
elsewhere.  Dimly she heard Stephanie's answering whine.

'Oh Mummy ..shopping together, I said ..not dragging round Petticoat Lane
for three hours looking at oriental bric-a-brac.  You've been really odd
since you came back from Turkey.  What on earth happened out there?'
The question startled Caroline back to reality and she blushed, reluctantly
letting her fingers trail down to her sides and began to turn away towards
her impatient fifteen year old.  God, how shameful it had all been ..and so
bloody marvellous!  Thank God Stephanie had no idea!

'Pretty lady want some help?'  The voice behind her was deep and foreign,
Caroline turning back immediately to reply.  The answer froze on her lips as
she gazed at the tall young man, well built and clearly Turkish, the handsom
e face set in a broad smile displaying a flawless set of pearly white teeth.
As Caroline stared, open mouthed, at his face she hung on to the stall for
support as her knees almost gave way.  Oh God it was him!  Here in London!
She stared helplessly at the thick leather belt around his waist and her
throat went dry.

 As Caroline closed her eyes in embarrassment, she was magically transported
to a foreign land where she blinked back a tear before obeying a sharp and
shameful command.  The belt was doubled over in the young Turk's hand, the
stalls had stopped serving, a sea of dark faces looking on in quiet
satisfaction as Caroline lay face down across the market table, her dress
raised, her ripped panties in tatters around her ankles and her bare bottom
quivering with anticipation.  With a determined grin he raised the
belt................ ...

The voice was now one of concern and Caroline came back to earth to find a
worried Stephanie gripping one arm and the young Turk holding the other.
'Lady OK ?' he enquired gently and Stephanie fussed around Caroline, holding
her hand, no longer the peevish little sophisticate but a young kid
frightened for her mother.
'Oh, I'm so sorry!  Yes, I'm fine now.  I just felt faint for a minute.  I
thought for one moment...Oh Lord, I feel so foolish!' she said sheepishly,
her face flushed crimson.

The young Turk grinned broadly, his sparkling dark eyes reaching into
Caroline's very soul.
'I think it something I do ...' he said cheerfully ' ...Not usually have
such bad effect on women!' and his twinkling stare made her tremble anew.
Caroline stared at the well muscled young Turk, her body shaking with
arousal, as Stephanie thanked him hastily and began to lead her mother away.
'C'mon Mummy we'll get a cab home and to hell with the cost!  You'll have to
see a doctor!  Perhaps its a virus you picked up in Izmir.  You haven't been
right since ...' but Caroline was no longer listening, for she was back in
time, six weeks before as the plane came in to land ___________
.


_______ As the warning light flashed above, Caroline clipped the belt in
place and looked out of the window, the outbuildings of the airport looking
like match stick houses as the plane circled ready for its approach to the
runway.  A nervous tremor ran through her body as she anticipated this first
ever holiday on her own.  The divorce had gone through now, she was free of
Paul for ever and Stephanie was away at boarding school for the term.

She'd plucked up her courage in opting for Izmir where her father had spent
so many happy years as a teacher and where she was born, though she
remembered little of the place.  Stephanie had been amazed by her choice and
had said so in no uncertain terms.
'You're going to Turkey, Mummy ...?' she'd said in amazement ' ...on your
own?  You must be mad, you know what Turkish men are like and, well, you're
pretty attractive for your age.  What are you trying to prove?'

As usual, her daughter's precocious perception had hit the mark and Caroline
had not dared to answer.  It was bravado, she knew all about Turkish
attitudes to women, but she was free and independent now and it was a chance
to prove to herself that she'd still got what it takes.  She craved new
experiences and excitement, perhaps even danger, but Stephanie would have
been shocked at some of the thoughts which ran through her mother's mind.

As the plane's juddering wheels hit the tarmac, Caroline breathed deeply as
she contemplated her first day on Turkish soil.  No longer the dutiful wife
who seemed to spend her entire life washing clothes for her husband's
endless business trips and, for half a term at least, she could forget being
'Mummy' too.  She was thirty five years old, free, desirable ...and
available?  Caroline smiled at her own wanton thoughts as the passengers
began to disembark from the aircraft and soon she stepped out into the
Turkish sunshine with a thrill of anticipation.

Exposed to the sweltering temperature for the first time as she walked
across the tarmac towards immigration, Caroline was conscious of the
oppressive heat suddenly flooding her body in perspiration, the insidious
dampness soaking through her bra and panties.  Dark skinned porters stared
and grinned as she carried her hand luggage into the main terminal building
and Caroline was embarrassed for it was apparent her light frock had become
transparent with the moisture.  She fixed her eyes ahead and swallowed.  Let
them stare, she told herself firmly, let them eat their hearts out!  It's a
damned good package on show!

Once through immigration, she soon found a cab which took her to the small
family run hotel she'd chosen for its intimacy.  The old man at reception
looked her up and down, immediately putting Caroline on the defensive.
'You are alone, Mrs Palmer?' he asked in a tone bordering on incredulity and
Caroline heard herself snap back at him.
'Obviously!  That's why there's only one name in your register, Mr Kazerin!'
She saw him flush with resentment and immediately regretted her tone.
'Look, I'm sorry ...' she muttered '...but I hate these attitudes.  You know
I'm alone ...it says so on my reservation form!'

The old man's look of disdain was undiminished .
'A single woman is just ..unusual here, Mrs Palmer ' he said stiffly before
handing over her key.  There were no porters and no offers of help so she
struggled up the flight of stairs with her luggage, exhausted and fried in
the heat by the time she found her room.  The air conditioning was noisy and
inadequate, any movement prompting more perspiration dampening her body.

She sat on her bed and unpacked, picking out two small items with almost
schoolgirl relish and anticipation.  Caroline had guessed how uncomfortable
the heat would be, giving her every excuse for the purchase of a ladies
razor and some shaving foam.  Blushing with excitement, she took off all her
clothes and went into the bathroom, staring in the mirror at the thick
triangle of blonde hair, now lank with perspiration, between her legs.
Carefully she washed the area and covered it in shaving foam before going
back to her bedroom.  Hand mirror in one hand and razor in the other, she
very carefully depilated her pubis until not a hair was left and she looked
down at the naked pink lips with a thrill of surprise for she had never done
this before. Caroline showered slowly, her hands working the creamy soap all
over her naked body.  God, it felt so good particularly when her fingers
roamed over her bare pubis, soaping and moistening until she turned the
shower onto her genitals and began to relish the cool water as it tingled
and aroused the freshly shaven area.

When she'd finished her toilet, Caroline got dressed in a figure hugging
yellow cotton dress, hopefully of ideal texture for the climate but thick
enough to hide her bra and panties from prying eyes.  She walked out of the
hotel, armed with a local map, and climbed high into the hills, suddenly
feeling like a teenager again, until she found the route to the old village
school where her father taught for so many years, overjoyed to find the old
classroom open for inspection.  She soaked up the atmosphere for a long
time, the afternoon beginning to fade to evening as she started back down,
suddenly afraid of being alone out in the wilderness, but to her relief she
made it back to the main road safely and began the walk back to her hotel.

 All the way she was conscious of swarthy young men who stood in groups at
the roadside, some still in their teens, who grinned as she passed, some
laughing and grabbing at their genitals in gestures which brooked no
ambiguity.  She ignored them, though her heart was beating furiously with
fear and a heady excitement, guessing that she would be safe as long as she
made no response which could be interpreted as encouragement.
Caroline reached her hotel, grateful to get out of the intense heat, then
showered and changed before going down to eat.  Old Kazerin watched open
mouthed as Caroline descended the stairs, for she had changed into a black
cocktail dress which highlighted her ample figure to perfection.  She
ignored the blatant stare and greeted him with a smile.

'Mr Kazerin, I want to sample some of the night life tonight and I
understand there are quite a number of places in town!'
Kazerin looked away, refusing to meet her eyes.
'There are some cafes and bistros, Mrs Palmer, with an orchestra where a
lady alone could sit in comfort without fear and ...' he muttered as
Caroline hissed through her teeth in frustration.
'No, Mr Kazerin ...' she snapped '...I don't want an old maids tea party.  I
want a night club with excitement and a good cabaret'

The old man shook his head.
'Mrs Palmer, I cannot recommend such places.  A woman alone should not ...
'Oh very well ...'  her angry blush was rising '...I'll just ask the
cabbie!' and would have stalked off to the small dining room, but felt a
hand on her arm.
The man behind her at reception was swarthy and thin faced, his eyes taking
in every inch of Caroline's body.

'I hear what you ask ...' he said softly ' ...and I recommend the 'Al Karim'
on the docks.  They have a snake dancer there called Ahmed who owns the
club.  It is very ..what is your word ..sensual dancing.  I think, Madam,
you will enjoy it greatly!'
Caroline smiled in gratitude
'Sounds just right ...' she said happily '...thank you!' and the man smiled
at her as old Kazerin let fly at him in Turkish in obvious anger and
outrage.  Caroline ignored the fracas and rang for a cab before going back
to her room to wait.

As she sat on her bed awaiting the cab, a sudden idea came to her and she
blushed at her own shamelessness.  She stood up and looked at herself in the
mirror, checking the length of her skirt.  Satisfied that it came below her
knees, she hesitated, still red faced, then grinned.  If she was going to
enjoy a male dancer, she'd do it unfettered!  Who'd know anyway?  Perhaps if
it was dark enough and he was sexy enough, she could put her hand inside her
skirt and ..!  Without more ado, Caroline reached under her skirt and pulled
her panties down, stepping out of them quickly as she heard the knock on the
door to announce her taxi.

The driver was young and handsome but couldn't speak a word of English.
Caroline's destination was no problem for him, the words 'Al Karim'
provoking a head shake of disbelief, for he looked at his passenger anew and
grinned as he took in her shapely body.  Caroline was close to panic as she
sat in the taxi, wondering if the boy would try anything.  He kept ogling
her through the mirror and she sat with knees tightly clenched, frequently
pulling her skirt down.  Oh God, what would he do if he knew I was naked
under there!,  .  she thought wildly, ... ' "open for business" as Paul used
to call it .. he'd rape me for sure!

All her fears were groundless for soon the docks came into view and, as the
taxi swerved into a side road, Caroline saw the lights of the 'Al Karim' in
front of them.  She got out, careful to tug her skirt down as her legs slid
out of the door, the young driver looking down approvingly.  She paid him
and walked up the steps of the night club conscious of his stare as he
pipped the taxi hooter and shouted something after her before laughing as he
drove away.  She guessed it was something sexual and her face was crimson as
she walked past the grinning bouncer at the door who had clearly heard the
comment.

Jesus, they think I'm a whore!, Caroline realised with horror.  Why did I
come?  What am I doing here?  She steeled herself bravely and walked in as
eyes turned in her direction from every table.  The club was dark and
intimate, with some twenty tables and a side bar, the small stage at the
front illuminated by half a dozen multi coloured spotlights.  Smartly
dressed couples nodded to each other as Caroline sat at a vacant table,
their dark faces wreathed in knowing smiles as they whispered to each other,
pointing in her direction.

She was on the point of getting up in panic and leaving when there was a
soft drum roll and the lights dimmed.  A waiter came to her table and she
ordered a bottle of fruity local wine in an attempt to dispel her nervous
tension.  From behind the stage curtains, two men appeared carrying a long
pole and two vertical supports, the pole then delicately balanced across the
supports some two feet above the stage platform before the men disappeared
behind the curtains.  The show was about to begin............................

To be continued.......