Hammam Bath: an erotic experience

I happily peeled off my clothes that was matted to my perspiring skin from exploring Athens on foot. 

Slipping on my pink string bikini, wrapping the peştemal, a red and white checked cloth, around my waist and changing into the sandals given, i was ready for my virgin hamman experience.

I was led through the soğukluk (the cooling down room) into the hararet (the hot room). 

The room was impressive. Illumindated in an orange glow with an echo if you speak, the room was completely covered in marble featuring several basins and an impressive göbektaşı — the central, raised platform above the heating source.

Removing the cloth from my waist, i tried to relax and sweat next to a kurna, the small marble basin. I could fill the basin with hot, cold or warm water which i then douse myself with. Initially, i used warm but later found that cold water was the most pleasing. Especially after lying face up on the göbektaşı examining the architecture and skylights placed on the ceiling. I got restless after lying for ten minutes, but forced myself to lie down again, like sun-bathing.

The hammam bath is a small place, they can only serve 3 customes at a time so its highly recommended to make reservations way in advance. We did ours a month ahead. The washing area by a masseuse is seperated by a marble panel from where i was told to sweat and relax. I peeped, wanting to get a heads-up of what's going to happen to me when it's mine turn. 

All i saw was one perfect figure of a woman & man lying face down on seperate marble tables, enjoying their sudsy massage. Only locals would know that historically, the Turkish mothers would visit hammas to suss out potential daughter-in-laws. My eyes traced the petite hands that firmly caressed that man's back. His masseuse was wearing a little black bikini top with a peştemal tied around her waist. Glancing over to the female customer, her male masseuse was half naked with a boyish face like Corey Monteith frome Glee. Damn, must the Greeks all look like gods.

It was my turn. Clutching my washcloth, i gingerly walked in. There was a change in masseuses. My friend got a female masseuse who seemed to wear nothing underneath but wrapped by a peştemal like a tube dress. My male masseuse wore a cross necklace around his neck, sport a 5'o clock shadow sported and had chiseled abs. He looked like Ryan Gosling. I licked my lips, my throat felt dry.

I laid down on the marble table and surrended myself to Ryan. His voice was gruff and he whispered next to my ear what's he's going to be doing to me. I had to resist not to have my lips curl into a smile, instead i acted nonchalent. 

There was a certain technique the way warm water was splashed onto me. With my eyes closed, i could only imagine water droplets glistening on his biceps as he swirled the kese, a plant used in the process. 



He then put on gloves to scrub me. Many people will not have a pleasant experience as they akin to being sandpapered at this moment. But his touch was firm yet gentle, i do not remember experiencing any pain, only pleasure. 

The last time i lay helpless, with someone bathing me was in Banyan Tree where i had the rainforrest trestment. I remember it was a somewhat uncomfortable feeling because i was lying down while the shower above me was of many nozzles and water was just getting into everywhere that i felt like i was drowning. Every once of my body wanted to jump up to say "let me shower myself".  

Ryan is skilled. As he soaks me intermittedly with water, i just lay there, melting into the marble. Even when he doused my head with water, the water seem to miraclously part the moment it touches my forehead so it runs down my cheeks and not my nose. He would then place his thumbs and wipe away any remaining droplets. I never knew the groove between my cheekbone and eye socket could also be a g-spot.

He whispers in my ear again to turn around, for some loving on my back (ok, he didn't say it like that). With one hand, he pulled at my string and my bikini fell apart. Dangling a lacy, foam-filled cloth, he piled alot of foam on my back and begin a sudsy body massage. I had to suppress a moan. 

He uses the kese afew more times, and it feels like a gentle whip striking my back. He asks if i would like conditioner in my hair, i said yes. Anything to prolong this session. 

Ryan tied back my bikini as he announced the end of my session. I smiled, finding it an irony how men can swiftly remove a bikini but have no clue how to tie one back. He had double-knotted mine. Blinking away the water in my eyes, i sat up and there he was, his wet hair sleeked back. The scrub, wash and massage only took 30 mins but it felt like an eternity. I understood the saying that time stops when you're in love. I was in love with the hammam experience, truly an otherworldy feeling. 

Ali-Mama Hammam at 45 Euros

Hammam Baths

17 Agion Asomaton St & 1 Melidoni St

+302103231073