I'll leave it to the reader to decide if this is a work of fiction or non-fiction. For those of you who have been to Turkey I'm sure you will guess correctly.
Gayle, my wife, and I were into our second week of a 2 week holiday in Marmaris. We'd seen the sights at Ephesus, Pammukale, Turkish villages and enjoyed the obligatory gulet trips to Turtle Beach and surrounding bays. We'd also been to a number of shows including of course a Turkish Night and watched the belly dancers.
Every night we had eaten at a different restaurant but always made one particular bar/restaurant our last stopover before going back to the hotel. On the last night of the holiday there were only 3 or 4 couples in the bar, all of whom we knew, plus our attentive waiters Mehmet, Hassan and Mahmoud. The bar owner Hani and his brother Osman were behind the bar serving drinks and food.
Turkish waiters are extremely attentive. They shake your hand when you arrive and leave. They want to sit with you to learn about you and develop their English. The majority of them are also desperate to get into the knickers of any female tourist!
Mehmet in particular liked to stand behind the women and give them neck and shoulder massages and I have to say no-one raised any objections. Gayle, being young and blonde came in for a lot of attention and seemed to positively enjoy Mehmet's fingers soothing away the tiredness of the day.
Mehmet was also the one who, as soon as "Kiss Kiss" or "Cha Cha" was played, got all the women up to dance. He led the crowd when it came to performing the wild Turkish dances and him, Hassan and Mahmoud would gyrate with the women waving their hankies responding to the ever increasing tempo of the music. The women loved it.
Getting back to this particular night. Around 2pm there was only me and Gayle and our Turkish hosts left in the bar. Hani decided to close the outside area and we all went into the internal bar. Once in there Gayle and I continued to drink and we were joined by Mahmoud. The others being Muslims weren't allowed to drink alcohol. Once again the Turkish music was played and all the Turks and Gayle went through the usual gyrations. When the music stopped Gayle came back to sit beside me and I could see she was slightly drunk and had a slight sweat sheen on her face and neck. Mehmet ever attentive also noticed and dabbed her face and neck with a damp cloth and then started the usual massage.
This time however, I noticed that his hands were moving slightly lower than normal and his fingers didn't stop at her shoulders but actually disappeared inside the top of her dress as he massaged the top of Gayle's breasts. He spoke in Turkish to his colleagues and from the way they were looking at Gayle I suspected he was remarking on how full her breasts were. I was no different. I sat and watched spellbound as his hands continued to dip in and out of her top. I could see that his fingers never reached her nipples but they did come pretty close. The funny thing was that I was enjoying the sight and from the reaction of Gayle, so was she.
The moment was broken however when Hani put some more Turkish music on the CD player. Gayle opened her eyes, smiled at me and said, "this is the music that the belly dancer was dancing to. I'm sure I could do a belly dance". With that she stood up and climbed on to one of the tables in the bar. There she started to move in time to the music just as the belly dancer had done. Suddenly she shouts, "I can't do this with a dress on" and proceeded to remove it leaving her standing in just bra and knickers.