A story based on Can Yamans Turkish dizi.
Ozgur Atasoy.
Rich, handsome, Club/bar owner and DJ lives in an exclusive rooftop penthouse in Istanbul.
He's a Player.
A lover of beautiful things and he can't resist one night stands with beautiful women...
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Nearly 4 months after finding out her boyfriend of 3 years has been cheating on her, she's had two hugs and 4 kisses, all from me, and she's taken care of herself, once! In the shower, this morning, after laying with me all night.
She's done it again. Totally blindsided me with her vulnerability and her honesty. Her reactions are so unlike any other women I've known. Her tears were genuine. She shed a layer. I begged her not to cry. It tore me up that she was so upset over them. I shed a layer.
But when she said that her tears were actually for me, because I was always there for her, she makes me wonder and I guess I know. She has been choosing the wrong men. It wasn't her fault. And now in a slightly alcohol induced state, she's just admitted that she needs a man's loving touch... and then it hits me. That the thought of any other man but me, helping her out of this drought is unacceptable. My own reaction shocks me.
In my minds eye... I can hear the water gushing, falling on to her. Feel the heat warm her skin. See the glass door steam up. The image of her tiny delicate hands...with those pretty manicured nails, running over her wet, porcelain nakedness, is sending me over the edge of madness for her.
I lift one of them and turn it over in my large male one, rubbing the pads. What I really want to do is put them in my mouth, one by one and suck the tips. I know that orgasm is long gone, but still...
"Ezgi, Were you thinking about me in the shower?" "Ozgur? Did you want me to have been thinking about you in the shower?"
I see. Using my own tactics. Clever girl.
"Now, whose answering a question with a question?" "I'm a good student. I listen, and make mental notes." "When I said I'd help you, It wasn't so you would become a female version of me..." "I was already your version of Miss Wrong!" "And I was your, Mr Wrong, yet look what happened?"
She standing between my opened legs, in my office, as I'm perched on my desk. We've shared another kiss. A smooth salty caramel coloured whisky one. There's another Ezgi cocktail for my book. Salted caramel Whisky Kiss.
"Ozgur, what is happening?"
This is the question I was dreading. Because how do I admit to her, that knowing her, being with her is making me a better man. A man who can actually see, that I could love and trust again. She's the first person I want to see in the morning and the last person I want to see at night.
And in between those times, I want to be the one to make her laugh and smile and give her food and drink and protective hugs and long kisses after dark, and I most definitely want to be the one who makes her come in the shower...and on the sofa, and in my bed. In my car!
"You were just about to tell me about your Orgasm. The one in the shower. This morning. How was it?"
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