Dating a turkish man from istanbul
He attempted to guide me to the roof and I relented.When we were outside, he attempted to pull my close to him and I told him no and he said that he was sorry again, and he looked like he meant it, in fact.The young man allowed me to enter the elevator first and he followed me in.Once the elevator moved, he grabbed me and pushed his lips onto mine, his hands roaming over the area between my legs and all over my back and buttocks.When the food arrived, we stopped talking for a while, especially since he talked to some customers between bites of his large, juicy fish. I was turned off by how noisily he ate, and the grease around his mouth.I looked away and out the glass door at the sights of the street.
There were a lot of people, but I was the only foreigner. No one knew any English, so when the waiter took my order, I just pointed at what I wanted and he went on his way.The waiter who tried to get me on the roof with him quickly followed me and grabbed my hair gently and let his hand run all the way down my hair as I descended the steps from the restaurant (the restaurant was on the third floor); that waiter continued to give me a look of passion. He told me that it was upsetting for him to have seen me walk down the street in distress, going in and out of hostels, looking for a place to stay.I told him that my friend didn’t want me to stay with her anymore and I didn’t say exactly why.As I waited for my food to arrive, another waiter had his eye on me.He would be considered handsome by most people, but I didn’t find him handsome at all, because his appearance just wasn’t the type that I was attracted to.
His name was Onur and he was twenty-three years old.