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Introduction:

A stunning young woman visits from Turkey and gets swindled. She comes to me for legal advice. When she can't pay my bill, she and the interpreter treat me to some fun times.

TURKISH DELIGHT

When my phone rang, it showed an unfamiliar number. I let it go to voicemail, thinking nothing more of it. Within moments the same number called again. As is my custom with unknown numbers, I rely on voicemail to screen out the spam. The third time it rang, the caller left a short message. I didn't recognize the voice but it sounded urgent.

"Please call, Mr. Sailor. I'm desperate."

The voice leaving the message was obviously foreign, female, and sounded quite frantic. Against my better judgment, I dialed the number. A young sounding female answered in a thick foreign accent. We stumbled through some preliminaries in her broken English and I discovered that her issue was fairly complex. The more I questioned her and tried to interpret her responses, the more confused I became. I determined that she did need some legal advice and that we had a serious language barrier. It turned out that her native language was Turkish.

I invited her to visit my office the following day to see if I could cut through the haze and guide her appropriately. In order to clearly understand each other, I contacted the local University asking for translation services. Yes, translators were available for a nominal fee. I arranged for one to come to my office for my meeting with my mystery client.

The translator arrived first, a young man of Turkish descent. He was dashing, looking much like the actor Burak Deniz who appeared in The Ignorant Angels and Shahmaran. He introduced himself as Orhan, spoke fluent English and would work quite well.

My mystery client arrived shortly thereafter. She was simply gorgeous. A petite body, long brown hair cascading past her shoulders, pouty lips and a physique that brings men to their knees. She introduced herself as Melike and said that she was only in her early 20s. We assembled in the conference room where Melike poured out her story, translated by Orhan.

It seems that Melike had gotten herself mixed up with a lonely, desperate man she met online. Being an internet based relationship, either party (or both) could portray themselves as anybody. Melike swears that she only portrayed herself accurately and could produce the email and text messages to prove so. Further, she could show through those messages how her suitor had lied and misrepresented himself, plus she claimed to have pictures to prove those allegations.

"Melike, I'm terribly sorry for your plight. But this seems to be nothing more than an online date brought into the real world that didn't work out. I'm not certain that there's anything we can do for you. It's unfortunate, but I see no harm other than to your self esteem."

Melike lowered her head, her hands clenched into fists and her face got beet red. She exploded in an explative laced tirade, all steamed up, yelling and screaming. The translator relayed her story that this man lived in Chicago and had convinced Melike to fly overseas to come live with him. She had sent him intimate photos of herself nude and in compromising positions. He had never sent her any photos but had represented himself as much younger and more affluent than he really was. Once she arrived, the truth set in. He was easily 40 years older than her. Additionally, he had convinced her to have her family wire transfer approximately ten thousand US dollars to him "to help with a short term crisis in his business." It turned out that he had no business.

She had escaped, using all of her remaining funds to flee as far away from him as she possibly could. Now, she was stranded in a foreign country with no funds to return to her homeland. She was destitute and needed help. I agreed to look into her matter, asking her to forward her email and text message "proof." I would make my recommendations on the aftermorrow.

The entire time the three of us had been huddled in the conference room, Melike and Orhan had been surreptitiously admiring each other, paying close attention and patently flirting. On a couple of exchanges, they spoke to each other in Turkish, obviously not related to her story. Orhan would make a comment to her and she would blush, adopt a sexy look and reply. His grin would confirm that their conversation went beyond the bounds of pure translation.

I watched as they left my office. They traipsed across the parking lot, flirting and jostling one another. Orhan held the car door open for her and leaned in, giving her a quick kiss before they sped off together.

As requested, Melike forwarded a trove of emails and text messages. Additionally, she sent several dozen pictures and a couple of short videos. The pics showed a man appearing to be in his 60s, some showing him drinking beer and sitting in a lawn chair outside a mobile home, trash and junk strewn about the yard. The videos were taken inside and reflected the same man flying into a sudden rage, throwing things about and threatening to harm Melike.

In reviewing her situation, the strongest claim I could find revolved around the $10,000 transfer of funds. The balance of her perceived wrongs were non-actionable. Agreeing to fly to America to meet with an internet contact is merely stupid, not illegal, in the absence of misrepresentation amounting to fraud. On the other hand, Melike may have herself violated laws by sending pornographic, sexually explicit material over the internet. It appeared as if Melike may have been wronged, partially through her own naivety or gullibility, for which the law had no adequate remedy. The chances of winning a suit against Mr. Chicago for return of the $10,000 were slim, would be more expensive than any recovery, and would take significant time.

Mid-morning the following day, the love birds returned to my office. They were jovial and obviously comfortable with each other as they entered my office. As we settled into the conference room, they sat next to each other rather than across as the day before.

I delivered the bad news to Melike, translated by the interpreter, Orhan. Melike was disappointed and hung her head crying into her hands. Orhan put his arm around her shoulder to comfort her and spoke some gentle words in Turkish to her. She embraced him; they were obviously quite comfortable with each other.

Then came the coup de grace. I slid my invoice across the table toward her. She looked at it, her eyes opening wide and she turned a very surprised face to me. She muttered something quickly in Turkish which Orhan deciphered for my benefit.

"She says that she does not have this amount of money. She is asking how she can pay it."

I had run into this situation in the past. My usual solution was to enter into a payment agreement, spreading the debt over time. In this situation, however, that solution didn't fit very well. This beautiful waif, alone in a foreign country, destitute broke, wasn't a good candidate to sign into an ongoing payment plan. As a single man with physical needs, my mind raced elsewhere.

"Orhan, do you think she would be willing to have sex with me to settle her debt?"

Orhan began explaining my proposition to Melike. It was revealing to watch her facial expressions as he spoke to her and they discussed the possibilities. She went from surprise to doubt to intrigue to wonder. Between them they bantered back and forth, smiling and giggling.

Finally, they both turned to face me, smiles on their face. Orhan announced that Melike was agreeable but only if he (Orhan) was going to be included. Upon hearing "İş bitti", Melike jumped up and began shedding her clothes. The conference room table, aided by a couple of strategically placed chairs, provided a suitable playground for our exploits.

Melike made herself totally available and Orhan and I took full advantage. There was never a moment when she wasn't filled with one cock, another, or both. She particularly enjoyed being spit roasted but not as much as when we introduced her to DP. She went wild, screaming out in ecstasy when Orhan was in one hole and I filled her other. She turned into a sloppy, possessed nymphomaniac. We had difficulty satisfying her although the reverse was not true. We spent several hours enjoying orgasm after orgasm. When Orhan and I collapsed with exhaustion, Melike had Orhan ask me when her next appointment was. Insatiable.

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