A Guy Called Carlo

I love to visit the USA. I've been every year for the last six years. It's always been business related but to do business there is only a pleasure.

I think it would be true to say that America and Americans don't enjoy the best of reputations in today's world, but first-hand experience reveals a different story. In real life I have almost always found Americans to be warm and welcoming, charming and humourous. The only exceptions I have met were both politicians so I guess I shouldn't count that as real-life.

Last year I had a special interest in visiting Atlanta. When I go somewhere new, I find it very effective to hire a local public relations company with experience in my own line of business. That's how I handled it on this particular visit. It was expensive but it saved a lot of frustration in the end, and you may interpret that as you wish.

*

I was met at the airport on a Sunday afternoon by a young man named Carlo. He was medium-height, slim and well-groomed with nicely cut dark hair and small-framed glasses which gave him a very serious look. I placed him at about 25 years-old. The public relations company had assigned him to me for the week of my stay.

'He's young but he's very capable and enthusiastic, and he's going places,' they'd assured me.

I was old enough to be his mother though I am far from the motherly type and I was happy to have him as my guide. He took control of my baggage and we eventually found our way to his car. He wasted no time in presenting me with a preliminary itinerary which included details of meetings with prospective customers and an amended agenda for the conference I was attending. He took a copy of the speech I was going to make and promised to get it reviewed by his seniors. It was all very efficiently organised and in less than an hour I felt confident that the public relations people would earn their fee.

And Carlo had beautiful soft, brown eyes and very nice, angular hands.

*

I won't say that I planned to seduce him from the outset but perhaps I just don't want to own-up to my salacious intentions. It certainly had the potential to be a risk to my reputation but what is life without taking a little risk.

Throughout the week, Carlo and I met for breakfast each morning to go over the plan for the day. He'd brief me on the people I was meeting and I'd ask him to do various tasks and make last-minute arrangements for me. We'd meet during the day for an update and sometimes he'd accompany me to a meeting with a business prospect. As is usually the case, evenings were taken up with formal social events and I was glad to have him as my escort.

In the main it was business-like but from time to time I'd flirt with him a little; a touch that lingered a moment longer than necessary, a prolonged view for him down the front of a low-cut top, an arm around his waist whilst he held the umbrella on a rainy day.

I discovered that he'd split-up with his last girl-friend six months previously and he was finding it difficult to meet someone else.

'I guess they think I'm a nerdy type of guy,' he said.

'You?' I responded. 'A nerdy type of guy? I don't think so! I'll give you that you are very serious and a bit intense sometimes, but you are certainly not a nerdy guy. Stop thinking like that. You are only making things more difficult for yourself.'

'Well, maybe,' he said, and then we were interrupted and the conversation moved on.

On one of our customer visits I got him to divert to the Marietta area so I could drop into Victoria's Secret and buy goodies for myself and a couple of friends (we don't have VS back home in South Africa). He waited around for me and I'm sure he felt out of place but he took it in his stride.

I danced with him at the conference dinner function and got a little smoochy but I didn't get any indication from him that might encourage me to take things further.

I started to wonder if I was losing my charm, or if I was just too old for him, but it was clear that Carlo felt awkward with women in general. I noticed it not only with myself but also with those we'd meet in the course of the day. The sales assistant at Victoria's Secret, a lovely looking girl, had tried to make small-talk with him but he wasn't sure how to respond. A very attractive young woman, in a group with whom we'd had lunch, had big eyes for him but he'd seemed very ill at ease with her. Despite all his capabilities and attractiveness, he was just lacking in confidence in dealing with women. Perhaps I could do something about that for him.

It was at our breakfast meeting on the Thursday morning that I finally got a breakthrough. He took off his glasses, placed them in front of him on the table and gazed at me with those sexy brown eyes.

'I've never met anyone like you before,' he said. 'I mean, you are just so different. You give me responsibility and you actually treat me like I'm an equal. And I've learnt so much with you this week. But it's not just that. You are so ...'

'Go on,' I said, 'say what you want to say.'

'You are so charismatic and ...,' he hesitated again.

'And?'

'I shouldn't even be thinking this let alone trying to say it. Please let it go. If I'm offending you I'm really sorry. I didn't mean ...'

'Be quiet,' I said. 'You are not offending me and I'm very flattered that you think I'm charismatic and whatever else you were thinking.'

After that we got back to business but I'd finally got a sign of interest. Seduction works that way; a step at a time and see what happens.

Before we parted to get on with the day, I played my final card: 'Tomorrow is my last day as you know. If you are free, I think it would be very appropriate for us to have dinner together - how about something casual so I don't have to dress-up too much.'

For the first time since I met him I got a full, smiling grin.

'That would be really great,' he said and then he was back to his business-like self, adding another item to his list.

'I'll make the arrangements,' he confirmed.

'Just one more thing;' I said, 'please don't wear a suit.' For a moment I thought he was going to add that to his list as well but he just smiled.

The whole of Thursday followed the same pattern as the earlier part of the week. Friday was different; for the first time I awoke to a clear blue sky and sunshine. I had nothing much arranged - no breakfast meeting with Carlo, just a wrap-up session with his boss (of course, I gave a glowing report) and then the day was mine.

I booked myself into the hotel salon for an afternoon session of facial, manicure and the like and I spent the morning by the pool, relaxing and soaking up some welcome sun..

*

I met Carlo in the hotel foyer at 7.30. I was pleased to see him wearing a dark-blue polo shirt and khaki pants and smiling broadly.

'I have great news,' he said. 'I had a meeting with my boss this afternoon. I'm going to be assigned to Brazil to help start-up the new office in Rio de Janeiro.'

'That's such wonderful news!' I cried and threw my arms around him, hugging him with genuine happiness.

It was the ideal start to the evening. We drove a short distance into the Virginia Highlands area and strolled around the shops and boutiques for a while, enjoying the beautiful evening weather. He was like a different person; relaxed and talkative as if his good news had given his ego a much-needed boost. For me it was a relief to be free of hotels and business meetings and a pleasure to feel part of the real world again. And I had a happy, attractive, young man for my companion.

He'd chosen a bistro-style restaurant and we sat outside in the courtyard. A large magnolia tree, with a plaque at its base that read 'For Anna', cast its exotic scent into the warm night air. I thought it was just perfect.

We talked about Brazil and what might await him and I gently hinted that he was going to find Rio a major culture shock. He asked me about life in South Africa and we talked about how people knew so little about it. (There are many who are surprised that I come from 'Africa' and yet I'm white.) What I liked about him was the way he listened as well as talked - a rare quality in a man. It was hard to believe that only a day ago he'd seemed so awkward but here he was now, so full of charm and poise. I suppose that confidence works that way and perhaps he'd got used to being with me. Even so, I was certain he wouldn't try to make a move on me and that I would have to take the initiative. As we neared the end of the last of the wine, I reached forward and put my hand on his arm.

'You've given me a wonderful evening,' I said. 'It would be a great pity if I had to end it by myself so I'd very much like you to come up to my room, and not just for a farewell drink.'

He stared at me with disbelieving eyes so I added: 'Of course, only if you want to.'

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I just can't believe that today is happening. I mean yes, of course I would like to come to your room.'

'Good,' I said, getting up from my chair. 'Perhaps you could fix the bill and I'll see you back here in a couple of minutes.'

In the bathroom I checked myself over; scrunched my hair into a passable impression of Sharon Stone, re-applied a touch of lipstick, dabbed a little perfume. 'So here's to you Mrs Robinson,' I murmoured and went to rejoin Carlo.

*

I stepped into my room, with Carlo close behind.

'Find us some nice music on the radio,' I said to him and I busied myself fixing the lights and drawing back the curtains from the full length windows.

With everything arranged I found my way into his arms and snuggled against him. Our lips met in a first kiss and his hands began to roam.

'Wait,' I said, easing myself free. 'I've something to show you.'

I stepped back so the Atlanta night-scape was behind me and stripped-off my skirt and top. I was left wearing a bra and panty set and I twirled around and posed suggestively with Carlo's eyes once more wide in astonishment.

'I thought you'd like see one of Victoria's secrets,' I said. 'Thank you for taking me there.'

On impulse, I twirled around again, unhooked the bra and stepped out of the panties.

'And this is my secret,' I said, laughing, and standing with my legs apart and my hands on my hips.

'You look stunning;' he said, 'just awesome.'

He took a step forward but I got to him first and pulled at his shirt.

'Now it's your turn,' I said, 'Come on, help me get these things off. I want to see you too.'

When he was down to his briefs I pushed him back on the bed and hooked my thumbs into the waistband to ease them down. His prick sprang out and bounced against his flat stomach. The pubic hair was black and silky and looked to be freshly trimmed. I ran my finger tips down the length of his shaft and felt that wonderful smooth/hard combination. It wasn't huge but it was nicely shaped and full-looking. In the soft orange lights of the room, it appeared dark and flawless.

'So it's true what I've heard about you southern guys,' I said and then flicked at the tip with my tongue.

It is very rare for me to give a guy a blowjob but he looked too delicious. I worked him with my hands, stretching him back and caressing the sensitive rim, and I felt him swell and thicken more. Gradually I took the whole of the head through my lips. With my tongue I pressed him against the roof of my mouth, and moved slowly, backwards and forwards, squeezing and sucking, grasping and gripping.

I half expected him to cum quickly and I wasn't surprised when his body tensed. I flipped him out of my mouth and held him against his stomach. I felt the spasm, the pulse at the base of the shaft, and his cum spurted over his body. He groaned and trembled and I milked the tip; my thumb and forefinger making him jerk and shiver until the last drops seeped out.

He eased himself onto his elbows and his first words were: 'I'm sorry - I just couldn't hold back.'

'If you tell me you're sorry again, I'll spank you,' I told him, 'and I am more than capable of that. Just tell me that I pleased you, that I was wonderful and erotic and that it was the best blowjob you've ever had. And if I can't entice you to a second helping then I'll give up sex. So, be quiet and wait there.'

I skipped to the bathroom and grabbed a towel.

'Let me clean you up a little,' I said, more softly, wiping his chest and stomach, 'and then it's your turn to please me.'

I draped myself on top of him and kissed him and played with his hair and rubbed myself against him and then I crawled over him, spread the towel over the bed and positioned myself upon it.

The anticipation of sex, especially with a new man, always gets me wet and I'd felt it down between my legs as we drove back from the restaurant. Seeing him cum had got me even wetter and it wasn't going to end there. When I am really turned-on, it just seems to gush.

He came to lie by my side and touched my face. His hands moved slowly and gently and he used the back of his fingers in flowing strokes. He kissed me softly and then with more passion and then our tongues were playing together.

'You are the most incredible woman I've ever met,' he whispered, 'and I want to make you die of pleasure.'

'Do it then,' I whispered back. 'Do it long and slow.'

Maybe he'd had a good teacher or maybe it was natural talent but, whatever, he was as good a lover as I could wish for. He stroked and licked, squeezed and kissed, sometimes teasing, always pleasing. He found places that most would ignore, the inside of my arms, the top half of my breasts, the sides of my waist. He kissed my knees and gradually worked his way over my thighs until I became desperate for the sweetest kiss of all. And when he got there he teased me more.

A delicate tongue, barely grazing my clit, and then soft kisses along my inner thigh. A full kiss on my outer lips and then his nose running smoothly along my slit. Eventually he licked, and licked again, and again. My hips arched up to him and his hands snaked under me, gripping me and pulling me to his mouth.

His tongue lapped round and around my clit and the intensity grew, and grew more, and then came the great release. I held on to his shoulders and ground against him and he held his grip on me until I fell back.

He lay on top of me, whispering, fingering my hair; soft words and sensitive hands. I felt him long and hard on my thigh, pressing against me, working himself against the wetness.

'I want you to fuck me,' I said. 'Do it now, don't wait, come on, put it in.'

I widened my thighs and tried to angle myself so that he'd find the opening without a fumble and it worked. In one thrust he glided all the way into me. I grabbed his hips and pushed myself against him and bit his neck.

'Use all your weight,' I gasped. 'Make me feel you, all of you.'

I was still on the high plane of my first climax and the force of his thrusting, with all his stiffness and thickness, brought me to a second. Through glazed eyes I looked up at his face and saw the desire and urgency, the concentration and intensity.

'Fill me up,' I murmoured. 'I want you to burst in me.'

I squeezed the muscles inside as tightly as I could and with another thrust he threw back his head and moaned. His body jolted hard against me, and then again, and then again. I held on to him through the tremors of his orgasm until he became quiet and slowly slipped out.

*

For a long time we lay side by side with him fondling my breasts and rubbing his face against my shoulder.

'You're a beautiful lover,' I told him. 'And you are even more beautiful when you cum.'

'And you are incredible,' he said. 'Do you know how much noise you make. I was expecting the hotel security to come through the door at any moment.'

'It was your fault,' I laughed. 'If you make me die of pleasure, I don't go quietly. And those Brazilian girls are going to die for you too.'

'I think I'd rather stay here with you,' he said.

Remarks like that always set-off a little amber light of caution in my head. The towel beneath me and the insides of my thighs were sticky and squelchy so I used that as an excuse to visit the bathroom. When I came out, with a towel wrapped around me, he was sitting-up in the bed and I sat myself down beside him.

'You have given me a perfect week;' I said, 'a week I will always remember.'

'Stay here and I'll give you another perfect week,' he answered.

I nodded and smiled and leant forward and kissed him and then quickly stood-up.

'I'm going to make us coffee,' I announced. 'Don't you want to freshen up and get yourself together?'

It was always going to be the hardest part - the saying good-bye. We chatted quietly for a while over coffee until I felt the time was right to ask him for one more favour.

'I'd like you to do one more thing for me,' I said. 'Please don't take me to the airport. It will be very hard to say good-bye to you but I'd much prefer it to be here rather than there.'

He was reluctant but he agreed and he seemed to realise that the moment had arrived.

'Can I have a favour from you too?' he asked.

I nodded and he stooped down to pick up my panties from the floor; 'Can I keep them?'

I wanted to say 'NO!' but I just laughed and let him have them.

*

Several weeks later, I was in my office going through the usual morning routine. My secretary came in with the mail, wearing a broad grin and raised eyebrows.

'I'm very sorry,' she said, 'but I think I have opened a personal item by mistake.'

She placed two pairs of identical Victoria's Secret panties on my desk and a note which read: 'Victoria's secret is great but discovering your secret is the best thing that ever happened to me.'