Proper Charlotte

"Your food is very good. But other places? It has no taste. And they give too much. I see why everyone here is so fat."

"So, you came all the way from Europe just to audit this plant?" I asked.

"I have been away since two months. My client is interested in many businesses. This is the sixth I audit."

After we ate, Charlotte and I started cleaning up the mess we had made.

"Foutu bordel," she muttered. "I will clean the counters. You broom the floor."

I chuckled.

"What?"

"You say 'sweep the floor'"

"Thank you. You can sweep the floor... idiot." But she grinned when she said it.

We helped Mrs. James with other tasks around the inn, then I changed into my workout gear and went down to the gym. It felt good to exercise after such a frustrating day. An hour on the treadmill and lifting weights and I was ready for the sauna.

Charlotte was already inside, naked and breath-taking. I sat on the opposite bench, ready for her to ignore me again.

After a while of soaking in the heat, she said, "It was good of you."

"What was?"

"To help her. If we ate in the village she would lose money from us on the meals."

"Oh. I didn't think of that. I was thinking more of helping her out in general. And how you didn't want to drive into town."

She nodded. "What does it mean 'pull a bug out of your ass'?"

I laughed and explained the phrase.

"And if the person keeps being a pain, sometimes you offer to get a pair of pliers to help them."

She seemed to understand. "It is very graphic," she said and was silent after that.

We lounged on opposite sides of the dim room with the hot wood smell, absorbing the blistering air. I struggled not to look at her, but again I failed, glancing quickly to admire her beauty then looking away before she could catch me.

Later in my room, I read up on Switzerland: the culture, the food and the Swiss reputation of being unfriendly.

For fun I searched "Swiss bitch," half-expecting Charlotte to be the first hit. There were only odd German-language videos. But when I entered her full name, the results were intimidating: she was a partner at her firm, lectured at the university, and had published a book on money laundering. I had barely graduated high school and was lucky to have a job.

I drifted to sleep with visions of Charlotte's face and lush body. She was so beautiful but so infuriating. I wanted to yell at her, tell her to stop being so cold. But more than anything, I wanted to run my hands all over her, explore her and, of course, fuck her.

What would that be like? Would she be the uptight Swiss auditor, distant and dissatisfied no matter how I tried to please her? Would she be domineering and demanding, thinking only of herself? Or would she be sensuous and passionate, like the French are supposed to be?

Of course, there was no chance I would ever find out. I was uneducated, unsophisticated and as sickly white as a garden grub.

~~~~

On Wednesday, Warner was annoying and disruptive as usual. I put up with it, but by lunchtime I was close to telling him off, sale be damned.

The plant was beside a narrow river. One worker said there was a path beside it, so I grabbed a sandwich from the cafeteria and went outside the gate to walk and blow off steam.

The path was barely a goat trail, but it was rejuvenating to pick my way along to the sound of the river in the clean autumn air with the smell of the nearby forest. I loved being in the woods whenever I could.

Ten minutes along the path I encountered Charlotte in her dress suit, teetering along heading back to the plant.

"Are you following me?" she asked.

"Huh? No. You're the last person I expected to find out here, Charlotte. I just came out to unwind. Warner is being a real dick today."

She nodded. "Yes. To me as well. They told me of this path at the office. I came to see while it is lunch. I needed to be outside."

I stood, just smiling at her.

"What?" she said, puzzled.

"Well," I said, "for one, you look mighty odd out here in your power suit. And two, I'm glad you like nature too."

"Certainly. Switzerland is all nature. Cities are small. La campagne, the countryside, is beautiful. As you said. My family, my friends walk... uh, hike and ski often."

I gestured to the Alleghenies in the distance. "You should take some time and hike the mountains here."

She turned. "Those hills?"

"Hills? They're, like, 4,000 feet in places."

"The Matterhorn is 4,478 meters. That is... 14,692 of your feet."

I had no doubt the elevation she cited and her rapid calculations were precisely correct. "Okay, okay," I said, holding up my hands. "You got us beat. They're still pretty."

Charlotte looked again. "Yes. They are pretty... little hills." When she turned back, she was clearly suppressing a smile. Then she was all business again. "Excuse me, I must return."

She tried to pass me on the narrow path and I had to grab her waist to stop us tumbling down the riverbank. When our eyes met, I froze and just stood holding her, captivated by her face and lovely, unusual eyes.

"Are you staring again?" she asked with a tight little grin.

I broke out of it. "Uh, sorry, Charlotte."

She gave me a knowing look and gently turned us so was on the side of the path leading back to the path. She removed my hands from her waist and then carefully picked her way back to the plant.

~~~~

After work, Charlotte was fuming when she got in the car. It took some probing, but she told me what had happened.

"The staff obstruct my audit. You are correct... they do not want the plant to be sold to my client."

"I think if you let the owners know..."

"I did. Warner has been telling them lies about me. That I am not a competent auditor. That I do not know English. Then when I was leaving, he called me 'uppity bitch' and I need to learn my place. Said he knows exactly what 'darkies' like me need. He grabbed my ass."

She was furious, and on the verge of tears. "No one at home would be so unprofessional. People in this country are horrible."

"Whoa. It's a big place, you know. It's just Warner. He's like you said. A pig."

"No. Everyone here is rude. Everyone is racist. I will be happy to be home."

I let her cool down for a few minutes as I drove, but curiosity got the better of me.

"Do you... ever have trouble in Switzerland? Because you're black?"

She sighed. "Yes. Sometimes with older people. But it is not the same."

"Oh?"

"It is only when someone thinks I am a migrant. Swiss do not like outsiders. When people learn I am from Zurich, my appearance does not matter and I am like anyone. Here it is all because of my appearance."

I wasn't going to argue. I could only guess how she felt, away from home for so long with everything so unfamiliar, dealing with pigs like Warner. The most exotic place I'd been was Toronto, and that was culture shock enough.

At the inn, I made another call to my boss.

He said, "I get it. But if we raise a stink, we could lose the sale. It's worth a million and a half."

"It's not just that he's a racist, sexist pig," I said. "I think he's trying to obstruct me, too. Our equipment will lower their production costs, make the plant more attractive to buyers. I think that's why Warner's been getting in the way and insisting on this other location. Putting it there would cost twice as much to put in and make it half as efficient. It would help scuttle sale of the plant. I bet the owners would like to know what he's doing."

My boss sighed. "Okay, okay. I'll make some calls."

Next, I found Mrs. James and showed her a recipe I had found online.

She read the ingredients. "Yes... I have everything. The veal is frozen though. Hope that's all right."

When Charlotte entered the kitchen to help cook, I said, "Come back in an hour. I'm cooking tonight."

She eyed me with profound skepticism.

"Go on. Mrs. James will make sure I don't burn the place down."

An hour later, I set plates of food in front of Mrs. James and Charlotte.

Charlotte gasped. "Rösti! And... Züri-Gschnätzlets?"

I smiled. "I'm glad it's recognizable. It sure isn't pronounceable. You know, I expected Swiss food to be more of a challenge... not just hash browns and veal in a sauce."

"Yes, our food is very simple." She took a bite and nodded in satisfaction.

"Ah. Bien. Très bien. Thank you. Thank you both. I have missed this."

Dinner that night was more relaxed. Charlotte didn't scowl or call me an idiot. She may even have come close to smiling.

Later she helped clean up the kitchen. As I was emptying the dishwasher, Charlotte looked me up and down. "Remets le couvert?" she chuckled.

I didn't understand, but was glad she was in a better mood.

Later as we sweated naked in the sauna, she didn't ignore me. She asked more about where I was from, what food I liked and whether I had seen the Grand Canyon.

"I visited with my parents when I was little. But I was too young to appreciate it."

"I wish to see it and other famous places in North America if I come back."

"You didn't do any sight-seeing while you were here?"

"There was no time."

~~~~

The next day at the plant, another supervisor greeting us at the gate. Mr. Warner was gone without explanation. What a relief—I got much more work done.

On the drive back at the end of the day, Charlotte looked over at me and said, "Merci, Travis."

"For what?"

"I talk to the plant owners again about Warner. They said I exaggerate what we said and did. That it was cultural misunderstandings, language barriers. That they trust him. Then your company complains also. You said the same things and that he harass you, obstruct you too. That is why he is gone."

~~~~

That night Charlotte asked if we could cook a favorite meal of mine, so I picked chili con carne. As we prepared the food, Charlotte and I worked together smoothly, never once banging into each other. She was strangely upbeat, even friendly. Everyone enjoyed the food, even Charlotte.

In the sauna later, Charlotte was chatty again, asking me about famous places around North America I had seen and telling me of her travels in Europe and growing up in Switzerland. I tried to follow it all, but with her accent and her lapsing into French, German and Italian, I was soon lost. Still, I loved seeing her so happy and so open.

Throughout, she was glancing at me, studying me. I felt self-conscious and realized how she must have felt when I stared at her. I leaned back for a while to let her look, pretending not to notice and trying not to be self-conscious how I looked.

Charlotte then did something new: she leaned back as well, spreading her arms out along the upper bench and tilting her head towards the ceiling. The pose drove her marvelous breasts forward. She stretched her legs out in front of her.

It was my chance to admire every inch of her gleaming body: her breasts with their pitch-black areolas, her narrow waist that spread to womanly hips, her flat tummy, and the enticing peek of her intimate center.

Charlotte must have known I couldn't resist, but she stayed exposed that way for many wonderful minutes. I was glad she felt comfortable enough with me to be so relaxed. Or did she want me to look? Whatever the reason, I was thankful, and I tried to memorize the vision before me.

There was no way to avoid getting hard, but I was ready and covered up with my towel. When Charlotte sat up, she glanced at my covered crotch. She had a knowing, self-satisfied smirk.

When I left to rinse off, I was standing naked adjusting the shower when I noticed Charlotte behind me in her robe.

"Is it still fascinating?" she said.

"What is?"

"Moi. Mon apparence."

"Your appearance? The way you look? Oh. Yes. Sorry. I've been trying not to stare."

"You are bad at it. I see you. You are like a boy looking at Christmas toys. So I let you look again. But I think it is still not enough for you."

She paused and then said, "Today we were good cooking together. Tomorrow, I will show you how to cook Älplermagronen. It is simple also. But there is something else I have been missing."

Charlotte hung her robe on a peg. Naked, she pushed me into the shower stall and stepped inside. She handed me the soap and said, "Wash."

When I started soaping my chest, she said with exasperation, "Lave-moi, idiot," and pulled my hands to her warm breasts.

Shocked, I soaped her full boobs, feeling their firmness, lifting them, my eyes glued.

Charlotte shut her eyes and took a breath as I massaged her. When she opened her eyes, she stared at my pale hands contrasting against her dark skin.

"Nous sommes si différents."

"Different?" I said. "Sure. You're from Switzerland, I'm from here."

She cocked her head and laughed. "Ouah! Plus chiant que toi, tu ne pourras pas en trouver. Je suis africaine. Tu es... blanc. Très blanc."

Charlotte pushed me back against the wall of the shower and looked me up and down.

"You are very pretty," she said.

"Uh, for guys it's better to say 'handsome'. But I'm not handsome. I'm pale as a corpse."

Charlotte petted my cheek and stroked an eyebrow with her thumb, studying my face.

"No," she said. "You are fascinating also. And so pink!" She poked me playfully with a finger as she said it. Then for the first time, Charlotte smiled—a broad toothy smile with her eyes crinkling. I stared in wonder.

She became serious again. She leaned close, warm, soapy breasts pressing against me. She grasped my rock-hard dick and stroked it.

"I have never been with a white man." Her eyes searched mine.

"But Switzerland... everyone is white."

"In Zurich it is a scandal for une näggr to date a white person. People who are African... we stay together."

"Oh, no. Näggr? Is that what they call black people?"

"It is not the same as the word here. Not as bad."

Charlotte put her arms around me. I slid my hands over her round bum and hugged her back. It felt so good to hold her.

"Prends moi," she whispered with her silky accent.

I didn't understand. When I didn't react, Charlotte rubbed my erection against her slit. Louder, she said, "Défonces-moi. Maintenant!"

I didn't need to know the words to understand what she was asking. I could hardly believe it.

I pushed and slid across her pussy lips, across her clit then down past her opening, spreading her, feeling the slickness of her arousal. Charlotte gave a little gasp, her eyes alive with hunger.

I felt the hunger too. Hooking my arms under her legs, I lifted her against the wall of the shower stall and spreading her open. Between her thighs, her dark pussy parted to display delicate pink within.

Charlotte guided me and I pushed, sliding in easily. If her body was warm outside, she was twice as warm inside. And slick. And snug. We both groaned as I sunk into her.

Her eyes closed, then after a moment of savoring the feeling, she took a breath and looked at me with unrestrained lust.

I pulled out and pushed back in, pressing her against the shower wall. Charlotte's eyes lost focus, half closed, and her mouth fell open.

"Huuuh..." she breathed. "Oh oui, continues..."

Everything about her was different and unfamiliar: her skin, her scent, the feel of her body, her eyes, the texture of her hair, and the sounds and words she made as we fucked. It was almost like experiencing a girl for the first time again.

I wanted to drown in her, possess her, and drive away her unhappiness and loneliness.

Each time I pushed into Charlotte, seeking to please her, seeking to quell my hunger for her, I felt her reactions and watched her. She was so lovely and so different from what I was used to. Yet, at that moment there was no language barrier, no cultural or racial differences. Our bodies knew the language of desire and need. We were man and woman, fucking, mating, yearning for each other.

I couldn't believe this beautiful, accomplished woman was letting me fuck her. More than letting me... she was eager, willing, and seemed to be just as hungry for me as I was for her.

When I pulled back and looked between us, Charlotte looked down too. The sight of my pale dick disappearing inside her was the most erotic thing I had ever seen.

Our eyes met. She had the same look of wonder and lust that I felt. My need for her swelled. I drove her roughly into the wall, needing her, wanting her, and ecstatic when she caressed me, driving me on.

I don't know how long we fucked in the shower stall. I only regained sanity when I came, suddenly, forcefully, flooding her delicious body as she held me close.

Charlotte had a knowing, motherly smile as I lowered her legs, panting from our forceful mating. She stroked my head as we embraced and kissed, recovering.

I turned off the shower and pulled her out. I found a towel and dried every curve of her delicious body and then she dried me.

"Tu t'en sors?" she asked, grinning.

I didn't recall that phrase from high school. "Je ne sais pas," I breathed, shaking my head.

She stood naked, appraising my pale body for a moment and then handed me a robe and said, "Come."

We gathered our clothes and pulled on bathrobes. Charlotte guided me upstairs to her room.

Her bed was just as bowl-shaped as mine, and it pressed us together when we lay down. Charlotte was silent for a long while, only wanting me to hold her. I stroked her head, fascinated by the texture of her hair and the elegance of her face.

She entwined her fingers in mine and held up our hands, studying the contrast of my pale fingers with hers.

"Is it a scandal if you are seen with me?" she asked.

"We'd maybe get some looks in small towns. That's all. In a city, people would only be looking at how beautiful you are."

Her smile lit up the world.

I parted her robe, exposing her to my gaze. I ran my fingers across her skin, studying how it blended through shades on different parts of her body. I hefted one breast then the other, stroked her flat tummy and stroked the tight curls of her pubic hair and then down to her pussy lips. They were even darker than the rest of her. I slipped fingers down through her folds, bringing a soft moan from her.

Charlotte was watching me with a wistful smile.

She said, "c'est maintenant à mon tour," pushed me onto my back and started inspecting me everywhere, especially my erect dick. She stroked it and moved it around, focused intensely.

When it leaked pre-cum, she gave me a mischievous look and scooted down to engulf the head in her warm mouth. She sucked and stroked me languidly until I was breathing hard and then slid back up beside me, grinning.

She leaned across me and lifted one breast to guide her midnight-dark nipple into my mouth.

Charlotte gave a happy sigh as I sucked gently, holding my head close to her.

"Là comme ça ... Oh, oui!"

I licked and sucked as I massaged her other breast, then after a time, switched. When I reached between her legs, she was sopping. I wanted to taste her there, but Charlotte had other plans.

She sat up and pushed off her robe, guiding me to do the same. She positioned me on my back, she swung a leg over me and guided my dick to her opening. With a sharp breath, she impaled herself completely. She kept me deep inside her for a moment then lifted to watch my white dick emerge, shiny with her wetness, the pink of her center clinging to the shaft. She looked at me with wonder and smiled before sinking back down to straddle me.

Having come not long ago, I was able to enjoy the sight of her lush body and the sensations as she fucked me slowly. She was wet, but her pussy clung with a delicious resistance as she lifted and then seated herself again and again.