The Man Named Carlos Ch. 01

Disclaimer: All of the Characters and the story told are fictitious in nature. This work is wholly from the imagination of the author with some life experience to help bridge the gaps.

Chapter 1: Meet Carlos

Carlos Santiago was a man of many sides. He enjoyed that about himself. After all, if a thirty-year-old man running his own investment firm were only to have one or two hobbies, he would get bored very quickly. He stood a strong six feet tall, one hundred and ninety pounds of lean, strong muscle in the summer and a relaxed two hundred and fifteen in the autumn and winter.

On the third of March, he looked great in his three-piece suit. Checking his watch, he confirmed the accuracy of his wall clock. Both read two minutes past six in the evening. His office was beautifully decorated with a high school diploma on the wall and art of beautiful women in stylistic photos or paintings. His eye fell onto a particular piece of a beautifully tanned woman in a black slimming dress. He looked in the top drawer of his desk.

"Stacy!" He called out.

"Yes?" The fun and flirty voice of his secretary replied.

"Where is Tiffany's gift?" he asked with irritation.

There was a giggle from the other side of his door before a chubby blonde slid her head in. "She's wearing them," she said with her playful timbre.

Carlos looked up, enjoying the full, plump chest of his assistant. When he beckoned Stacy with his right index finger to enter the room, she pranced in with her cute black skirt. He kissed her cheek, felt her thick thighs up to her recently shaved pussy, and flicked the lips with his index and middle finger.

Stacy squirmed from his touch. "Mr. Santiago!" She cooed. "You know my boyfriend hates when you do that."

"I know," he remarked smugly. He spanked her ass with his left hand. "You don't have to tell him."

"You're going to get in trouble."

"I haven't yet," he said with a boyishly cocky smile. "I don't intend to start now."

She shook her head and smiled at her boss' incorrigible behavior.

Straightening up his desk, she trembled, feeling his hands on her full ass over her skirt. "Yes?" She asked, almost wishing he would flip her skirt up and fuck the absolute shit out of her.

"Where is Michelle?" he asked, whispering into her ear.

She shivered over his desk. "Copy room with Tim."

"That's a good girl," he said, slapping her ass before leaving the room.

"Mister Santiago?" She asked, exasperated.

"Yes?" He had a teasing edge in his voice.

"When are you going to stop playing and fuck me?"

Carlos paused at the door frame, looking back at his exceptionally full-figured plaything. "When you say yes," he answered, flashing his entitled grin.

"You know I have a boyfriend," she reminded him again. Perhaps it was more of a reminder for herself.

"Well, what he doesn't know won't hurt him," he said, weighing the idea. "And come on! Isn't anticipation half the fun?"

"Go fuck Michelle!" Stacy said in her sexual frustration.

"Not today," Carlos replied in good spirits and waved with his back to her. He was going to fuck Stacy someday on his desk, and he planned to cum in her, on her, all over her when he had his way. He would get his "yes" first. Whether she was single, taken, or in between, it did not matter. She knew of his casual sexual lifestyle, and much like the rest of his firm's employees, there was a similar tone with their sexual partners.

"Speaking of partners," Carlos murmured to himself as he went to the next floor and found the copy room. Cracking the door, Michelle, a busty, straight-haired redhead, loudly moaned as if someone had his head between her legs.

She was a beauty, a short, five-foot-three-inch woman. Her chest was a full 38DD on display for anyone to see. Her large pink nipples looked incredibly suckable. "Yes, yes! Fuck yes! Eat that pussy," Michelle ordered the younger man.

When Carlos saw the vision of a young man's head buried between Michelle's legs, he was not jealous of Michelle's flagrant sexual adventure; he could only hone in on her wedding ring, remembering her husband, Steve, who was undoubtedly far from her thoughts. He mouthed, "Are you still on birth control?" Carlos recalled Steve wanted more kids soon. He hoped she was being responsible with her partners.

"Yes!" Michelle hissed, confirming that she had not lost complete control of her senses. Carlos did love that about her. She was sexy, desirable, and absolutely breathtaking, but she was not stupid with her play. That made it all the more fun for him.

"Enjoy," he mouthed as he quietly shut the door.

Checking his watch, he thought, fuck it, and hit the button for the elevator. On the way down to the second floor, he could hear the raucous sound of a party. Forty or so people were crammed into a laid-back office with desks, computers, lamps, and other accessories. Between the wine, champagne, slight drunkenness, and a few younger men hoping to get laid, it was the same old, same old. Carlos loved everything about his office life.

"Make way!" A voice yelled. "The best gift giver is here!"

"Yeah, yeah," Carlos said, acting bashful under the circumstances. He made his way through the throng of people. At its center was a gorgeous middle-aged woman. She had a light tan, shoulder-length hair, and wore a floor-length black dress with a slightly less-than-professional cleavage. Carlos appreciated the view. The guests parted so the two could embrace. Some had the decency to chat amongst themselves while others listened intently.

"How do you like the dress?" He kissed her cheek.

"Not half as much as hubby enjoys the new girls," Tiffany responded with an impish smile.

"Did you go to the surgeon I suggested?" He asked, keeping his words quiet.

"I did, and he said the bill was covered," she replied with a hint of suspicion.

"Think of it as my second birthday gift. What did Tim say about it?"

"He said I had to pay you back somehow," she remarked mischievously.

"I will get to see them, I hope."

She countered his playfulness with a stern look. "Look. Not touch," she warned. "My husband does have a few scruples."

"I'm glad you both enjoyed the birthday gift," Carlos said cheerfully. "Enjoy your party."

"And where are you going?" She asked with false hurt.

"I am feeling bullish," he answered with a smirk. He knew she had no idea about the double meaning. When she gave him a questioning look, he laughed. "Enjoy the party!" Carlos shouted over the noise. A delivery of almost twenty pizzas and more beer than anyone in the room could reasonably drink was announced.

Tiff was curious about what her boss might be doing, but she let it go to enjoy the friends, cake and party for her eighth thirty-fifth birthday.

Carlos was almost at his car when Stacy caught up to him. She was out of breath running from the office to the parking garage.

"Stace?" he asked.

She held up an Android Galaxy phone, a few models out of date.

"You forgot your 'play' phone."

"I did. Could you be a doll and put my work phone back in my desk drawer?" He reached into his coat pocket and exchanged phones with her.

"I can," she said. "Just so you know," she added, in her sassy way, "you don't pay me enough for this."

"I will think of something before the Fourth of July," Carlos promised, getting into his car. Tapping the phone's side, he already had texts: three from a woman named Tracy, one from Richard, and two from Autumn. He was guaranteed a fun weekend.

*****

Tracy was a thirty-five-year-old married woman. She had given her husband, Chris, a son a few years back, and that had altered Tracy from a fine, thin young woman with a 38C bra size to a 38DD. The plumpness in her waist and thighs made her feel fat and unwanted. Chris had helped her moods periodically. His efforts were limited because of how he had sex. How could a forty-year-old man who had watched porn be so inept at foreplay? He would rub between her legs, suck her tits, even eat her out, but all of it was for his satisfaction. He did those things briefly before sliding his fiveish-inch cock into her.

It was not terrible, but Tracy had never been wooed. Her husband was not romantic, and his efforts were minimal. After months of repeatedly trying to make things work, Chris got it into his head to watch porn with Tracy, but their kinks were very different. Tracy enjoyed hair pulling, maybe light BDSM sex, a threesome, and even lesbian porn occasionally. Chris was obsessed with threesome sex with two men. It did not take long for Tracy to see one of the men was always bigger than the other, and realized Chris's fetish was evolving from a threesome into a more voyeuristic type where the boyfriend or husband watched their wife having sex. At first, Tracy was confused, but to see women plowed by other men to explosive orgasms was increasingly arousing. Before she knew it, whenever she was in the bathtub fantasizing at the idea, she rubbed her clit to make herself cum

For three months, her husband promised there might be a way for them to try it. After years of disappointing sex, failed promises and months of watching pornography of beautiful busty women impaled until they came so hard they could not walk and cum seeping out of their well-fucked pussy, Tracy was tired of waiting. When Chris informed her he was interviewing men online for the prospect of having sex with her, she was not entirely open to it. But with the weeks dragging by and the best sex being masturbatory, Tracy was willing to try anything.

Tonight, she was putting on a knee-length black dress that hugged her waist and tits. Her pussy had been freshly shaved, just in case she decided to fuck this "Carlos" guy Chris had found. Out of the entire list, he had been the best option. The others either wanted her naked pictures, which she did not like Chris sending out on a whim or men who only wanted to fuck and cum in her.

Straightforward desire was sexy, but most of those men came across as gross, self-entitled, and almost predatory. How many fucking weirdos were there on the internet? Carlos had a stable job, worked five days, had a reasonable body, and a cock an inch and a half bigger than her husband's five-and-a-half-inch member.

The problem was that only so much about a man could be learned online, so they agreed to dinner with Carlos. The 7:00 pm reservation was fast approaching; Chris was delayed with a friend but said he would meet her at the upscale steakhouse Carlos suggested. Despite her worries, she met the sitter and then departed. The young lady told her she would watch the kids until 11:00 pm.

*****

Carlos arrived at the restaurant early, and Kimmie was his server. Handing her three one-hundred dollar bills, he knew she would ensure the food arrived on time without worrying about the bill or the tip.

Kimmie was a waitress in her thirties who wanted to earn an income at a dignified job. Having lived a difficult life, Carlos always made sure she worked whenever he had a fun playdate. She made certain the food was served hot and precisely as ordered so he could focus on seducing his guest.

When his phone buzzed, he saw messages from Autumn, Tracy, and Chris. He was timely with his response to Autumn.

Her text read: "Are you coming over this weekend?"

He shot back: "Is Sam over his little hissy fit?"

Tracy's text advised that her husband was running late. Chris's text confirmed it. "Running late. Use the time to get in her pants. ;)" Carlos rolled his eyes at that. Just what he needed: another overzealous husband who got all of his information on swinging, polyamory, or cuckolding from the internet. They were the worst because they let fantasy override reality. The only upside to idiots like that is they brought along their wives as unwitting accomplices.

When his phone buzzed, there was a message from Autumn. "He said he wants to try a 3sum this weekend." Carlos scoffed at the stupidity of that idea. "If he cums before me, he watches... without complaint." Knowing she would text him again, he added: "On a date. Won't reply for three hours. You can tell me Sammy's thoughts." Turning his phone to airplane mode, Carlos set it on the table.

"Carlos?" a soft female voice asked. Looking up, he saw his date. She was shorter than he thought, about five-foot-four. She was curvy in the best ways. She was sucking in her stomach a little, he noticed. Nevertheless, she was entirely stunning.

*****

Tracy was blown away. He was as handsome as his photo. Carlos had curly black hair, a nice, framed-up five o'clock shadow accentuating his jawline, and intense brown eyes behind rectangular glasses. He wore a suit vest, collared shirt, and dress pants. If he hadn't told her he was an investment professional, she would have thought he was trying to impress her.

He was taller than her husband, in better shape, and looked more dignified. Gazing at his lips, Tracy imagined how they would feel on hers. She shook her head, returning to reality. When she sat down, they ordered immediately. The waitress seemed intent on keeping him happy, but Tracy assumed she was trying to earn a generous tip.

"So...what exactly do you do?"

"I did tell you and Chris," Carlos laughed lightheartedly.

"You know what I meant," she laughed back. "You said you were in investing. That's rather vague."

"Fair enough," he conceded with a chuckle. "I run an investment firm. I help assess risk and try to make sure we aren't the ones holding the bag when things fall apart."

"So, like in Wall Street?"

"No. We don't do insider trading. We don't touch physical properties."

"Why not?"

"I figured if an investment firm is going to use my money, then I should run it, and if I am going to run it, maybe we shouldn't be hiking up people's rent so someone with a degree from Harvard can have a second home."

"Oh," was all Tracy could say.

"We take smaller and unusual businesses," he explained.

"Like what?" Tracy wondered. She was genuinely curious about the life of someone who seemed to be trying to attract her attention.

He looked at her with interest. Was he considering lying to her? Or was he embarrassed to be asked? "Let's see. Right now, we work with publishing companies, loaning them money for small things like photo shoots or advertisements, covering them for a fiscal quarter, and they pay us back with a nice percentage."

"Why wouldn't they go to a bank?" Tracy wondered.

"Why would you go where everyone else does? If you know the money is good and the man behind it isn't a jackass, why go outside of the marriage, so to speak."

Tracy looked down, a little ashamed. "I didn't mean it like that," Carlos rapidly responded. "It's because people trust me. You can't always trust a traditional investment banker. When we started, my guys and I turned low investments in cryptocurrency into a deal worth a few million dollars, a war chest we've carefully tended for the last five years. We employ thirty rowdy but expert staff. Clients are confident I can cover their bets, and I have always come through to make sure they win."

"Wait! Are you saying you're a millionaire?" Tracy asked.

Carlos laughed nervously. "On paper, sure, but it's more about the investing. I own my house, pay myself reasonably well, and am pretty happy." He looked at Tracy with a critical eye. "And I don't like telling people this."

"Why?" Tracy asked.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Because I can see how you're looking at me right now. Like I am a self-entitled asshole."

"And you're not?" She asked skeptically.

Carlos's expression was uncertain. "I was raised by a single mom, lived in shitty rat-hole apartments most of my life, and came from nothing. I'm not going to apologize for doing well, but the moment I tell people about how well off I am, suddenly things change." Tracy was curious about what that meant. It must have been written all over her face because Carlos swiftly continued. "They question it or think it is something it isn't."

Tracy found his awkward nervousness appealing due to his honesty. "But how does that link up to this?" She asked, swirling her fork above her food to bring home her point.

"I generally work half-days, but occasionally, I have had to pull twenty-hour days, so my work-home life is out of balance."

"So you agree to fuck other men's wives?"

Carlos laughed with good spirits. Tracy could tell he was not belittling her; he was trying to be understanding.

"Kind of," he admitted, inclining his head to her. "I just prefer a more casual arrangement. If I openly communicate that I am not monogamous, most women understand and don't feel cheated or put out. If I get married, I will end up having a work-home life geared more towards work."

Tracy stared at him dumbfounded. "So you would work and maybe cheat on your wife? Sounds like a dick move."

"That's not what I said," Carlos hastily answered. Tracy observed that he did not lose his temper but seemed genuinely upset by her accusation. "I have been cheated on before and only cheated on one person my entire life. I have no intention of putting someone else through that." His admission caught Tracy off guard. Most men would swear up and down about how faithful they were, but Carlos was willing to admit his wrongdoing, which was entirely new to her. "But if there are times when I am at work for days on end, isn't it simpler to not make someone wait up for me? I can't hurt someone if I am not with them."

Tracy considered what he said. It sounded valid, and she felt terrible. "I am sorry."

"Don't be," Carlos said, waving her off. "You're letting me into your marriage. You want to get to know me, which means you deserve answers."

"That sounds fair," she remarked. With the speed of his reply, she grew suspicious. "Why are you being so reasonable?"

"I focus on risk assessment, remember? I can't earn anything if I don't give something."

"And am I what you're trying to get?" She asked with teasing flirtation.

"Maybe once or twice," he said with a boyish grin that told Tracy it might not be a bad idea to give in to this catch.

*****

Learning she was a mom of one who did some work with Etsy was actually really cute, but then he heard the story about her husband and his desires. "Ah, so he's a cuck."

"He said it was more like he was a stag," Tracy said, unsure.

"No such thing in my experience."

"What do you mean?"

He was careful with this answer, despite his irritation by the weird game her husband played by still not showing up. "All right. I have amused myself in many circles, so don't judge me for jumping to a conclusion." Tracy nodded and motioned for him to go on. "Most "stags" claim they like sharing their wives. In my experience, I don't see the difference. Usually, these guys want their wife to be with another man, to watch, to see if the other guy is better than him, almost begging him to be."

"I don't think my husband is like that."

"Maybe, but let me guess: he showed you porn, and before too long, he suggested you try this, and then maybe... if one thing led to another, maybe you can try that." Tracy looked back at him, stunned. "The best part of this is he communicated it to you."

"How?"

"Most guys in his position try to trick their wife, or coax them into it, thinking that porn or online forums are places to get good advice for expanding a marriage and exploring a sexual lifestyle." Tracy looked hurt but curious. Carlos used that to keep moving on. "I like doing this, but only if everybody involved wants it. That's the difference between being a little boy with a fantasy and a grown man with a fetish."

"Well, I am glad to meet a grown man."