She held up the bottle and smiled, handing it to him. “I tried to call, but I could hear in your voice that it wouldn’t make that much difference,...so I just slipped into this and came over.” He invited her in, in a voice that had gone hoarse somehow, and was taking out two champagne glasses when he glanced over at her. She smiled, half turned away from him and bent down, from the waist, to undo the straps on her sandals. Her red hair cascaded down around her face, and brushing a tendril out of. “Watching me gets you hard?” Umut asks.“Knowing you are my son and are such a well-made young man. I never really thought about looking at a male body before or concentrating on a dick, but I really like looking at yours. Rinse off so I can see it plainly.”The Turk is sitting where he had sat years ago when he was instructing his son in the art of masturbation. Umut comes out of the shower, towels off, and sits in the lounge chair across from the Turk, the man he has wanted to be alone with. More

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