Cuckolding in
Istanbul - a cock and bull story!
by Jilliana
Ranicar-Breese
I smiled when
I bought in a charity shop a Penguin book on
short French stories. Somewhat dated I eagerly
turned to 'Cuckolded - hanged and happy' by
Jouhandeau. Now why would that 'C' word intrigue
me?
This is a true story I should send to the
InterNations organisation to warn ladies who
travel alone against predators of the male
species!
I was invited to a 70th dinner party in May 2014
in Istanbul by a known British Archeologist. Well
why not thought I? I decided to stay a month in
Pera, the European side of the Bosporus, at the
cozy traditional Buyuk Londra Hotel with a
balcony overlooking The Golden Horn. It had been
the sister hotel to the famous Pera Palas during
the Golden Age of Travel.
I made the error of writing an announcement
online in the free member's forum on the
InterNations website, as I was a paid up
Albatross member. I had written a few months
earlier 'Jilliana from the UK would like to see
Istanbul through a member's eyes', without
specifying male or female! A big mistake not to
be repeated as anyone can join initially for free
without a profile. I immediately received 2
replies from 30-something males. One a
lawyer called Ali who I never met but am still in
contact with from time to time on Viber. He later
confessed he was looking for a non-Turkish
girlfriend and asked me to procure one! The other
Ali 'pounced' on me verbally! Little did I
suspect what he had in mind!!
Predator Ali sent me his mobile number and, one
morning when I was free, I spontaneously texted
him wanting a walkabout. He responded immediately
calling me 'beautiful lady'! I should have
suspected then but I knew no one at that stage in
the vast city so, Yati Oxi? Why not? Next, he
sent me his photo and also ones of cheap student
looking handwoven Turkish rugs. I assured him I
was not interested in buying rugs to which he
enthused he just wanted me to see the new ones in
his flat! Not to my sophisticated taste, however,
I suggested he came to my hotel at noon to show
me 'his' Istanbul.
Ali arrived on the dot as the grandfather clock
in the lounge struck the 'seduction' hour and the
parrot squawked 'Merhaba!' An average European
boyish male of about 34 with a self confident
smile. He eagerly offered to show me an 'out of
the way' district not too far away, producing,
like a magician, a metro ticket for me. No car,
no taxi as he had a ticket to ride or was it to
take me for a ride!
Off we went passing, on the way to what I thought
would be a cultural district, a modern hotel very
close to mine. For some reason I commented that
the architecture looked out of place as all the
other buildings were historic. It was then he
proudly informed me that Cuckholding went on in
that specific hotel. Had I not referred to 'that'
hotel, would the 'C' subject have emerged or was
he just testing my 'sexual' knowledge and 'experience?
I shall never know. I was not at that stage in
the 'C' zone! Was he testing the type of woman I
was or am? I had only come across the word in old
English literature and the Italian word 'cornuto'.
Being a linguist I demanded to know the full 'C'
meaning in context!
His eyes sparkled. I had opened a can of worms or
should I say cocks and bulls, not cock and bull!
His favourite topic and indulgence. He whipped
out his mobile to show me the meaning, bragging
he was an Master Alpha Bull. He was into more
than fucking that's for sure and no doubt was a
regular visitor at the hotel proudly telling me
the capitals of Cuckolding were New York, Paris
and Istanbul!
We slowly arrived at the impressive statue filled
metro station with his 'hard earned' spare ticket
where he took some photos of smiling (but not for
long) Sultana Jilliana, wearing her Dutch green
and black dress complimented by a bright emerald
green turban. Did I look in his eyes, like a
dominatrix?
We travelled 2 stations and got out in a vast
desolate concrete square with very few people
walking about crossing over to a rundown area
with Russian and Ukrainian signage above the
warehouses. This, he proudly announced, was
the prostitute area but they, probably, Ukrainian
angels of the night, only came out at 7.00 pm and
the black ones at 6.00pm Obviously in the know,
but why would he think I would be interested in
this unattractive seedy 'business' area? I asked
the rates which of course he knew and today I
have forgotten. Not expensive as they were not
call girls but on the streets and in dingy rooms
in sleazy hotels. Black being cheaper than white!
I asked about their menus too as the prices went
up and down depending on when the 'members' went
up or down! At some point we passed a black woman
wearing a sexy tight lacy mini dress with a well
endowed derrière. Ali grunted, like the bull
that he was, flaring his nostrils, turning and
said he wouldn't mind 'having' her for dinner.
But why tell me? It was clear he didn't care
where he put his member!
2.00 pm. I was feeling hungry and, as I enjoy
Borsht, I thought I would take advantage of the
ethnicity of the area and invite my so-called sex
mad 'guide' for a snack, not that he deserved it
mind you but I felt like a change from the usual
Turkish meze and kebabs. Being gustatory, I
salivated thinking not of hot sex but hot Borsht
with sour cream!
Ali seemed to know the district well telling me
he had had dealings with the Eastern Block, and
exhibited in the USSR with commodities but his
business had gone down the toilet and he was
skint. I got the message, loud and clear, Ali was
looking for a foreign Sugar Mummy! MOI!! Ooh la
la! Did the stallion back the wrong mare!! Did he
imagine me to be a British angel of love? Did
they have a special 'mounting' technique in
Turkey? Did I really miss a bullish opportunity?
He picked an empty Ukrainian cafe which was clean
but basic. Soup, red cabbage and sausages were on
the laminated menu in Russian which he was able
to read but not much else. He boasted he was on
Linkedin and showed me his entry on his phone
which mentioned his exaggerated no doubt business
experience at USSR trade fairs adding 'What I
couldn't write, was what a good fuck I am!' Was I
missing a trick here? Even though I had been
involved in the world of conjuring and illusion
for 30 years, I had not 'turned a trick!'
After a not so bad cheap lunch, although weary
from endless walking, I saw from the outside an
interesting but locked Armenian orthodox church.
Ali chatted to the armed guard in a sentry box
outside. I knew about the tensions between
the Turks and the Armenians and their genocide.
On we walked taking photos of the broken down
area with its cafes and low typical stools and
tables covered with traditional woven tablecloths.
Only men seated with their little cups of
precious thick black coffee. 'Kurds!!' He
announced dismissively and disdainfully. I
photographed a presumably Syrian woman lying on
the street with her baby boy wide awake while his
exhausted mother slept surrounded by her pitiful
possessions. And on we walked in Neverlandia.
I was in need of a rest and a coffee. We had
somehow arrived at the better known area of
Kumkapi specialising in fish restaurants. He knew
a traditional cafe with Nargileh or Hookahs (not
hookers) and a friendly owner, telling me that we
would have to call for a taxi back to the metro
as we had walked so far. I announced he could buy
the coffees. Amazingly he replied 'yok', business
was bad and so he couldn't afford to, showing me
some paltry coins in his pocket amidst a $50 note
which the cafe owner obviously could not cash! I
hit the roof. I had nothing further to say to him.
In silence after our Turkish coffees we took a
taxi back to the metro and he sheepishly
apologised for his bad behaviour. I slammed the
taxi door and limped off unaccompanied in the
metro, alone for the first time. There's always a
first time and a challenge a la Turque!
Rushing back to my cozy traditional room, I
enthusiastically googled Cuckholding for 'educational'
purposes of course and even found an entry on 'Craig's
list' for Istanbul. I learned about the
underbelly of Istanbul that afternoon and had a
fascinating insight into the dark side of peoples'
alternative lives!
I still have Ali's texts and photos on my mobile
but somehow I don't think I will be calling him.
I'm sticking to the 'Museum of innocence' in the
antique junk district of Cukurcuma - more my 'C'
style!
Written
in Brighton in December 2017.
References
Google - Cuckolding - Craig's list in Istanbul
Google - Museum of innocence, Istanbul
Google - Buyuk Londra Hotel
Google - Wikipedia cuckoldry
You Tube -Ask a porn star
Google - 'Cockolded - hanged and happy'
Google - Cockholding New York Times article by
therapist
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