Ankara porn cinema

Ankara porn cinema

First visit to a pornographic cinema in Turkey.


The best location for a porn cinema is right in the centre of a city. Somewhere with enough foot-traffic to—although counter-intuitively—make the coming and going of its clientele almost completely inconspicuous.

To enter I had to rouse an elderly man in a kiosk from his newspaper. And hand my ticket, one flight down, to another elderly man, who insisted on a tip; for this, the solemn duty of shepherding horny men to a porno. Stumbling into the dark cinema I sat down a few seats away from the exit. No sooner had I sat down and I promptly leapt back up again. The clammy feel of the armrests, something akin to slimy moss on a tree bark, momentarily triggered my flight response; and completely eviscerated my hitherto poker-faced bravado. Regaining my composure—so embarrassingly lost—I froze at the door, took a few breaths and reluctantly returned to my seat.

The very first impression was how awkwardly silent the place was: like a church. And as my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, I could make out the silhouettes of a handful of men, spread out throughout the almost empty cinema. All of them solemnly transfixed on what seemed an Eastern European woman. Dressed effeminately in pink, sporting long equally pink nails and see-through heels; lying on her back, on a tiled floor in front of a large standing mirror. Convulsing as she vigorously rubbed her clit. I would guess the audience’s median age must be north of fifty. A few rows back, it appears that an older gentleman is giving oral sex to the man seated next to him; and immediately in front of me, a younger man is slowly stroking his erect penis protruding from his opened fly. The air is stuffy and smells of filth, but the kind of filth that has slowly been ameliorated by the passage of time and the periodic application of successive layers of detergent. Soon my ears also adjusts to the oppressive silence, and the faint moans of the woman, now being fucked by two muscular Middle Eastern men, become audible.

There is a strange silent solidarity between all of us: we are all equally gross. Sitting in the filth of those that came before, respectfully stroking and edging away at the moral codes of our civil society; now temporarily suspended—just like the air in here. I start to feel more at ease; and I am quite taken aback by my own growing arousal.

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