At an outside café in Izmit, not too far from the Marmara shore, Umut has just shared a glass of tea and some food with a friend who has now left. Umut is not ready to return home just yet, so he stares vacantly into the almost fantasy-like glow of the late fall afternoon.
The setting sun on the Sea of Marmara radiates as a brilliant iridescent fog throughout the atmosphere. The sheer eeriness of the seemingly inexplicable beauty causes the driver of the rental car Edward to take his foot off the gas and let the car slow down on its own. Edward has seen a great deal of the world in his time and understands the importance of place and the simultaneously unimportance of place. He is now in no rush since the rental is not due until tomorrow late in the afternoon. In his sixties, tall and fit, Edward is open to life. He loves his life and loves the possibilities each day presents. He finds the sunset incredible. The fields of sunflowers radiate a golden glow through the haze. In a moment, he understands the Barbizon painters. As he is approaching the outer limits of Izmit, Edward decides to stop, absorb the local color, have a bit to eat and drink and be on his way to Istanbul. The thought sits well with his temperament.
Seated at the seaside restaurant next to Umut's table, Edward glances at his half-finished food that lies before him. He soaks in the remaining atmosphere and sees it begin to ebb as the fog crystals no longer diffuse the light as they once had. Edward is aware of Umut as they are close to one another, and the place is sparsely populated. When their eyes finally meet, there is no flirtatious exchange. Two men acknowledge each other's presence, smile and lift their glasses. Edward blurts out, "Merhaba, Abi. That's the only Turkish I know."
Umut smiles and says, "Merhaba," in return. He adds, "I speak a little English."
"Then come sit over here, and you can tell me all about the horrible earthquake."
As Umut moves to the new chair, he offers, "I was only a child at the time. There was damage to our home, but no one was hurt. The university took a major hit."
"I imagine that things were chaotic for a while."
"I had to stay with relatives in the country. That was a crazy time. But, now, many good things have come out of the earthquake. We build better and better. Not fall down when the earth shakes."
Umut can't help but assess the man before him. Older but not old, a man whose body is still solid, and a bearded face framed by the dark hair interwoven with the gray. Umut begins to feel his balls tingle even though he has not touched the man in any way.
Edward looks Umut straight in the eyes. "My name's Edward and I think I would like to finish this conversation where we can be more relaxed."
Umut is not expecting so straightforward a suggestion, even seeing it as a proposition. Umut is at first embarrassed internally, but giving no hint that such a proposal affects him in any way.
"What are you thinking?"
"I've got a car and I thought if you knew of a place we could be alone... away from prying eyes."
"I see. I know a hamam where there are private areas. We could meet there."
Umut knows he can share a room with Edward at the wildest of all the hamams and gives Edward the directions. Umut follows on his bicycle.
While pedaling to the hamam, Umut envelops himself in the role of the virgin, the first time being taken by an older man, a grandfather figure. He becomes the object instead of the subject. Umut decides he wants to experience the passive role. The feelings of a woman being taken by a man fill his thoughts. He looks forward to being fondled, rubbed, licked and kissed, not by a twink he will later fuck, but by a man. The bicycle seat pushes against his erection and his ass. Umut moves slightly forward so the point of the seat is pushing against his hole. He hears within himself the sounds from the bedroom: the sighs, the deep throated breathing, and the screams of delight and the bellowing howls of his father riding into paradise. He imagines his father taking a female, making her feel her deepest feelings from his granite-like manliness. Umut relishes the domination pure sexuality unleashes in a person. He wants this experienced man to take control of him, to give the man the vigor of the youth within himself. He wants to be a teen again and be taken with mastery. Umut sees himself as the object of Edward's lust and directness. Umut chains his bike, then asks the cashier if the far back room is free, which it is. Umut gets his towel and locker key. Umut leads Edward, who is waiting in the public area, toward the back alcove.
After the somewhat labyrinthine passageway, Umut brings Edward into the cozy alcove with its massage table and divan. Umut draws the curtain and turns toward Edward.
Umut asks, "Are you a man?"
"I am a man."
"Will you take me?"
"When the time comes. Do you play soccer... oh, you call it futbol."
"Yes, I have played since I could first kick the ball. Only on amateur teams now."
"Your body looks like the players one sees on TV. Let me ask you a few questions before we get close."
"Evet."
Both men divest themselves of their towels. Each man assesses the other. Both men are pleased. Edward motions that the two nude men sit down on the cushions of the divan.
"Have you had any experience with an older man?"
