All About Gisele
Copyright© 2025 by Joe Neon
Chapter 1
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Thomas Bergmann, a divorced IT specialist in semi-retirement stumbles upon a few video clips of a stunning adult actress from Brazil. Little brain overrules big brain, and he sets out to find the girl, changing his and her life more than he thought possible. Originally posted in 2007, but withdrawn from the site. Edited and re-posted with permission from the original author, under a different pen name and after a re-edit. It is still the same story, but with a little less 'Kraut English'.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Fiction Interracial White Male White Female Hispanic Female Anal Sex
February 2003
Gisele. Gisele was the name given to her for one of the hundreds of newbie porn flicks, posted on a web site by one Rick in Brazil. I stumbled upon a video clip featuring her when I scanned the ‘net for images for a supermodel of the same given name. This girl looked even better. Light brown hair framed a bronze-complexioned face with high cheekbones, dark eyes, and a thoroughly kissable mouth.
And the body! Our good Lord must have truly put all his attention to sculpting her forms. Praise him! Her bikini tan lines highlighted conical breasts, tipped with silver dollar-sized nipples, as close to perfect as possible if you have to work with mortal flesh as material. A flat tummy continued into slightly flaring hips and legs that would have given a Greek goddess an inferiority complex. Even the jaded guy who worked the camera could be overheard and man, even he sounded awed by her sight.
I was able to find eleven QuickTime clips and four FlashVideo files of her before I gave up, and I compiled them into a six minute movie, using a movie app. Over the next days I perused them time and again. I had become a bit jaded over most internet porn, but this girl caused instant anaemia in a man’s brain. I just could not get over her. I even did something I had never done before: I logged into the site where I had seen her clips and paid for full access. $ 10.95 for three days, non-renewable. It took me almost half an hour to find the movie with the girl in it, and another 20 minutes to download it in high resolution, 800 megabytes of heaven. I burned a DVD and then popped it into the DVD player.
It started with the ‘interview’ part, what’s your name, where do you come from, do you swallow or spit? She was standing in a private swimming pool, some lucky bastard holding her from behind and pressing against her panty covered ass, her breasts still in a bikini top. Then a cut, and the guy had her lying on a towel and on her side, his hands roaming over her tummy and breasts. Next she was lying on her tummy, facing away from the camera. The guy pulled down her bikini bottom, and then she turned onto her back.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” the cameraman voiced his admiration in the background, and indeed, the sight was awe-inspiring.
The movie continued with her giving and receiving oral and then being fucked doggy style and spoon fashion. Either she was stoned or she really went with the flow while the guy fucked her brains out for almost fifteen minutes. The cum shot over her breasts was almost anti-climactic. What man with any appreciation for women would shoot off over such a lovely body, I’m asking you? Or jerk himself off in the first place with a babe like this two feet away? Pearls before the swine!
I edited the lousy cum shot out and burned another DVD. This enhanced version I played for another six or seven days at least twice a day until I began to worry over my mental health.
As a matter of fact, I got an appointment with a therapist and I told her about my fixation with that girl. Of course, it took us three sessions and four hundred fifty Euros to get my background explored, the childhood, the failed marriage, my almost non-existent love live since. Looking back, she was worth that money. Because, after the third session, she sat back on her upholstered chair and gave me a smile.
“Mr. Bergmann, Thomas, I don’t think there is anything wrong with you. I my view, you have just developed a normal healthy crush for a very beautiful young woman (I had given her a copy of the DVD). The only problem is that you cannot meet her in person to see whether she is really a woman you could fall in love with. I would suggest that you stop tormenting yourself by watching her in these movies. You have to accept that she is unattainable. Go out again and find real life women. You are in good shape and a wealthy man, enjoy life before it’s too late.”
“I could fly to Brazil,” I blurted.
“How would you find her? Posing as porn producer? Auditioning hundreds of poor girls? You cannot be that shallow.”
I had a brilliant idea.
“No, I’ll hire a private investigator to find her and identify her.”
“Careful, that’s awfully close to stalking.”
“Where there is no plaintiff...”
“I don’t want to hear anything more, My advice is, go and throw the DVD away and forget her. She can’t be much older than 20, and you are, what, 45 years old?”
“I know, I just have to meet her once. Thanks for setting me straight, doctor.”
“I’m afraid, I did anything but that...”
The porn distributor had his office in Miami, and that is where I flew a week later. You may ask, with some justification, whether I had no job, and the answer would be, not really. I still do some consulting and work for certain organisations, but I mostly live off my savings and my portfolio. Hey, I bought a load of AAPL when they were $ 14, back in ‘98. They were over $ 40 now, even after the 1:1 split in 2000. I also had a hunch and sold my Yahoo shares and switched to Google before the Dotcom bubble burst. I can afford a ticket to L.A. anytime.
I met with a P.I. who specialised in movie people. He looked at me a little bit condescending, but he accepted my down payment, and three days later, he delivered. I came to his office, and he let me see his results.
“Her name is really Gisele. Gisele Cuzmao, of Rua do Campo in Ubatuba, Brazil. It’s all here in the filings they have deposited here. All legit porn outfits file proof of age and consent at central repositories here in the US. I have access. It was just a matter of going through 300 or so files before my man found her.”
“Is her profession listed?”
“Yes, student. Now, that can mean anything. The thing that counts is that she’s 21. Here, you can have the Xerox copies of her ID. What are you planning to do now? Go to Brazil, find her?”
I answered cautiously.
“Do you happen to know a trustworthy colleague down there?”
He laughed.
“No, and nobody is trustworthy in this trade. Get that into your head.”
I was lucky. I found a direct flight to Sao Paulo, and there was a vacancy in business class. 48 hours after I talked to the PI, I was in the small coastal town of Ubatuba, some 130 miles east of Sao Paulo. I checked into an old-fashioned tourist hotel and went out for dinner. The restaurant was named Bailey’s. It had been founded by a stranded Irishman and was supposed to be the best eating place in town. It certainly charged prices as if it were. As a matter of fact, the food was really good, and I spent two hours, eating leisurely and contemplating my next moves. I figured that the girl Gisele was a local girl, working at a shop or restaurant, dreaming of a break that would get her out of her dismal situation. Hence the movie. The PI in Miami had told me that the girls were usually paid a hundred dollars for a video. Perhaps she would be willing to be my companion for a week if I offered the right amount of cash. It would be nice to walk the beaches with a pretty young woman, it would be nice to give her presents, and it would be nice, if we clicked together, to spend a night in her arms. There was a nagging worry though, that she would be all greed. If that happened, I swore to myself, I would leave.
The next morning, my first priority was to get a trustworthy cab driver who spoke English. The receptionist happened to have a cousin who had a cab and spoke English. For the equivalent of 100 Euros per day plus gasoline, the cousin was mine. Joao really spoke very decent English, and I had him drive me to the Rua do Campo first, to check whether the address was real. It was. It was not the best part of the town, but neither was it a slum. Working class people lived there with their families in four story tenements. The houses and the street in front were kept clean, there were drapes behind the windows, and the hum of air conditioners filled the air.
“Good neighbourhood,” Joao agreed. “Workers, nurses, good people.”
‘How come a girl from a good neighbourhood would do a porn flick?’ I asked myself. ‘And how can I find her?’ The filings did not give the house number.
I had a brainwave then. I went into a department store, and with Joao’s help obtained a huge yellow cardboard box. I put in a box of fairly expensive sweets and a simple cell phone with a prepaid card, taped it shut and had Joao write the address: Gisele Cuzmao, Rua do Campo, Ubatuba. We posted the big parcel, and the next day I sat in Joao’s taxi, waiting for the mail to arrive. It was three in the afternoon when a mail truck came along, stopping in front of Nº 14, Rua do Campo. And yes, he carried the big yellow parcel. At my sign, Joao drove the taxi up to the mail truck. The mail man walked the external stairs to the third floor and delivered the parcel to a young girl. In my binoculars, I saw a likeness to the girl in the video, but I did not think it was her. I decided to wait. Joao took a nap while I watched the street. It was three hours later and close to darkness, when a young woman approached. I knew it was her, although the light brown hair was darker now, and tied into a braid. She wore some sort of a uniform. likely from a fast food place, and her gait was tired. I quickly climbed out of the taxi to intercept her.
“Por favos, senhorita!” I addressed her, keeping a distance.
She looked up, alarmed, and turned to check her rear before looking at me.
“Do you speak English?” I asked, and she nodded.
“This may sound strange to you, but I travelled from around the world to see you. I would like to talk to you, but I understand if you are afraid of talking to a stranger here on the street. A parcel was delivered to you by mail today. You will find a box of sweets and a cell phone with a prepaid account. I am staying at the Tropicana hotel. Please call me with the phone and I can explain the purpose of my visit. My name and the number are in the parcel, too. Thank you for listening to me. I will leave you now.”
I could tell she was apprehensive.
“I will not play in movies again,” she suddenly said, her eyes hard, although her voice was cracking. This was not what I had expected.
“I certainly hope you won’t, Gisele,” I answered. I gave her my friendliest smile. “Just call me, and I can explain.”
She called me a little after nine.
“Gisele Cuzmao,” she said. “What do you want of me?”
I had to clear my throat.
“Will you promise me to give me five minutes, no matter what I say?”
“I can do that,” she said with a small chuckle. “The sweets were great.”
So she was a sweet tooth; that was useful information.
“I am glad you liked them, Gisele. Now, I have the impression that you played in one or more videos and that you are not happy about that.”
I heard her gasp on the other end.
“Please, don’t hang up. Hear me out. I admit that I saw you in a movie. That was over four weeks ago, and I cannot get your face and your body from my head. I want to meet you in person to resolve my fixation. That is why I am here. I retrieved your name and address from an adult movie industry repository where your age certificate and consent documents are stored. Then I flew here, and I had that big yellow parcel sent to you. I watched the street until the post man delivered it at your house. Then I waited for you.”
“You came here for nothing,” she said, her voice sounding hard. “I will not sleep with you for money.”
“Please wait! This is not what I came here for.”
That was a lie. That’s what I had come for, but I was really interested in this girl who did not fit my preconceived concept at all.
“What else then?”
“I would ask you for a chance to meet you and to speak with you. Perhaps in a restaurant of your choice. I will invite you to dinner, and you will be free to leave at any time.”
“You come all the way from Almanha to speak to me?” she asked suspiciously.
“You checked me out? Smart girl!” I said appreciatively. “I would like to get to know you, I admit, but if one dinner is all you are willing to grant me, I will be grateful all the same.”
“I have to think about it. I also must ask my mother. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course. My visa is good for ninety days, there is no hurry.”
That made her laugh.
“You would wait ninety days? I am not that pretty.”
“No, you’re not, Gisele. You’re that beautiful.”
“If my mother agrees, I will eat dinner with you tomorrow. It is my free evening. I will call you and give you the name of the restaurant. I warn you. I will pick the best and most expensive restaurant.”
“You do that, Gisele. It may be better for me to have good alcohol available when you’ll shoot me down.”
“If you are honest and nice to me, I will be nice and polite, too,” she said earnestly.
“That is all I can ask. Prepare to be nice and polite, then, for I have no plans to be dishonest or mean. Good night, Gisele. Thank you for calling.”
It was almost 8 pm the next evening when she called. I had not expected her call anymore and I was just about to leave my room and have dinner by myself.
“I’m sorry, I just got back from work,” she said. “Can we just meet in the restaurant of your hotel?”
“That’s not the best, nor the most expensive,” I reminded her.
“But there are many people, and they have security.”
I laughed at that. “When can you come?”
“I’m already there. I’m at the entrance. They won’t let me in though.”
“I’ll be with you in a second,” I assured her and quickly put on my shoes. Running down the stairs, I was down at the reception in a few seconds. There she was, outside the restaurant door, where a Cerberus of some sort stood watch, lest the underprivileged may have a taste of the overpriced food they were selling.
“Senhorita Cuzmao!” I called, and she turned to me. “How nice of you to come. But why are you waiting here?”
The guard dog looked at me uneasily, but stood his ground.
“We do not allow local girls in here,” he said. The way he pronounced ‘local girls’, he could have called her a whore right away.
I shrugged.
“Your loss, not mine,” I answered lightly. “Let us go some place else, Senhorita. The food here is not that good anyway.”
I offered her my arm which she reluctantly took and led her over to the exit. I steered Gisele outside to the taxi stand and guided her into a car, one of the ubiquitous Volkswagen beetle.
“Bailey’s!” I told the cabbie.
Gisele looked at me strangely.
“This is against our rules,” she said. “I was to pick the place.”
“Yes, I know. But Bailey’s is close to your home and I will give you money for the taxi ride home right away. Have you ever been into Bailey’s?”
She snorted and shook her head. I believed her. I had eaten there the past evening, and the place was frequented by rich Paulistanos and tourists like me. I noticed that she looked down at her dress self-consciously. It was a pretty dress, but it was cheap. She wore simple sandals and no adornments, safe for a small black purse.
“You will do fine, Gisele,” I assured her. “They are nice at this place, you’ll see.”
The cab pulled up at the restaurant, and I helped her out from the cramped back seat. I paid and tipped the cabbie and then offered her my arm again. The maitre d’ looked at us only briefly, but he remembered me, and showed us to a nice table in the back. Gisele sat, flustered by the attention of a waiter who held her chair. She was at a loss what to say when the waiter came with the wine menu.
I ordered a light Chianti wine and a bottle of mineral water. When I asked Gisele what she would like to drink, she smiled self-consciously and asked for a coke. I also ordered a mixed barbecue plate for two, with French fries and croquettes.
The waiter soon came back with our beverage order and placed wine glasses both for me and Gisele. She looked at the glass suspiciously.
“Only if you want to try the wine. It’s a light Italian wine, a Chianti, and it goes along nicely with red meat,” I explained. “If you are not accustomed to wine, you may better stick to your Coke.”
She nodded. “Maybe a small sip to try,” she said cautiously, and I poured two fingers into her glass.
“You don’t have to drink it all,” I said, “but if I pour less, it will become stale.”
Again, she nodded. She had emptied her Coke rather quickly, and I ordered another glass for her. She smiled shyly at me, but then she gathered her courage.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.