All About Gisele
Copyright© 2025 by Joe Neon
Chapter 3
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 3 - 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 Originally posted in 2007, but withdrawn from the site.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
After breakfast, I left the house, and Joao drove me to a place where I could make the necessary purchases. Morales had made some calls too, and a moving lorry stopped in front of the tenement before noon. The guys were professionals, and in less than an hour, they packed up the stuff Gisele and Alicia did not want to leave.
With the help of the security guy, we loaded the girls’ suitcases into Joao’s trunk and left the house. While we were driving to Sao Paulo, Joao told us about a turn of events. A police spokesman had told the press about the results of the investigation, and he had clearly refuted any rumours regarding a possible affair between the two victims. One local newspaper had even run a headline “Murdered Twice”, decrying the public assassination of character after the murder. ‘Now the Good People can point their finger at the tabloid,’ I thought cynically.
“Does that change anything?” I asked the girls, and they both shook their heads.
I called our lawyer though and asked him to retain a litigation specialist to sue the tabloid for defamation of character. He said he knew just the man for that and laughed darkly. He asked whether Gisele would be willing to take a phone call from the widow of Senhor Morenho, and Gisele agreed. In fact, we made the call from my cell phone, and they talked for a few minutes, with Alicia listening attentively. When they were finished, Gisele had a bitter smile on her lips.
“She wanted to apologise. It was she who fed the newspaper the information about my video. Senhor Morenho had tried to block my expulsion from the church college, and somehow, she must have learned of it. She said she was so angry about the public humiliation that she wanted to hurt us even more. Now she feels bad.” She laughed a short, bitter laugh.
“It does not matter, really. You’re leaving. It’s just dirt on your shoes, and it’ll wash off.”
She looked at me quizzically.
“What do you see in me? Why are you helping us? I mean, I’m a mess. This damned video is all over the world now. Everywhere I go, people will recognise me and brand me as a slut.”
“I see a wonderful person in you, and I don’t give a shit about other people. Can you live with that?”
“Gisele, please stop it. Don’t question our luck.” That was Alicia.
“I’m not questioning it. I want to understand.”
Joao drove us to a Holiday Inn. I had reserved a suite under my name. This allowed me to register the girls under my name. They did not have passports yet, but Senhor Morales had promised to see to that.
Meanwhile, we were parked in a nice suite with two bedrooms. Under my direction, the bellhop put the girls’ suitcases into the larger bedroom, and mine in the smaller one. Gisele, noticing this arrangement, pressed my hand.
Later, Morales called to bring us up to level. Eva Cuzmao’s body had been released to the undertaker, and the burial was scheduled two days later. He had arranged for security at the cemetery. There was no family except for the girls, and there would be only a few co-workers who had expressed the wish to attend. He had also obtained Alicia’s school report card. The principal had been very upset about the public defamation of the family, and he had talked with Alicia’s teachers. They had agreed to give her final marks based on her performance over the last year. The principal had also volunteered to write a letter of warmest recommendation, describing Alicia as model student.
“See, there are good people who are willing to stand by you,” I told the girls after relating the information.
The next day, we went shopping for black dresses and a suit for me ... I finally settled on a charcoal grey, single-breasted suit. For the girls in was calf-length, black dresses. They both refused the offered veils. Black nylons and black, low-heeled shoes completed the outfit, and we returned to the hotel. We had room service for dinner, but the girls ate little. The next day weighed heavily on their mind.
The burial went as well as a burial can go. In his short sermon, the priest, a Jesuit padre, decried the brutal murder of a loving mother, and delivered a stinging accusation against the gossip mongers who had, as he said, killed the poor woman a second time. Then he said, that she, like poor Lazarus, had earned paradise through her suffering. I don’t know from where he got this information, but Gisele and Alicia were grateful for his kind words.
More were coming from the colleagues, who had brought a huge wreath. They hugged the girls repeatedly, although one of the older women studiously avoided Gisele. The padre saw this, too, and he made a point giving Gisele a formal embrace and a blessing, leaving her a little flustered. Seeing how well everything went, I asked the mourners to join us for lunch at a nearby restaurant. We were only eleven people and we easily fitted around one large table. Somehow, the Jesuit priest sat beside me and asked me in his passable English how I was connected to the Cuzmao family. We were waiting for the food anyway, and I decided to give him the true story and see how he reacted. He took it in a stride.
“At least you saw the error in your ways,” he remarked with a smile.
I had to grin, in spite of the occasion.
“Gisele has a good influence on me.”
“And what will you do now?” he asked.
I told him of the plan to let them continue their education in Germany, and he grinned.
“If the Dean should ever hear of this, he would be very displeased. That a sinner, expelled from his college, is now rewarded with a free education overseas will destroy his views of the world.”
After the impromptu lunch, we drove to the law firm, and Senhor Morales handed us the papers he had prepared. There was a document appointing Gisele as Alicia’s legal guardian, as Alicia was still three months short of 18. When everything was settled, and the girls were looking through the documents, I asked him for the bill for his efforts. He simply shook his head and explained that Eva Cuzmao had died while working for the firm. They would never charge the girls.
Then he told me about the litigation against the newspaper. The owner of the newspaper, a prominent industrialist from Sao Paulo, was very embarrassed about the incident and had sent his lawyers to talk settlement. They would throw in the head of the editor, if we insisted, figuratively speaking of course. The girls asked to have things settled out of court, since they did not want any more unsavoury publicity, and, a few weeks later, the whole thing was settled for 200,000 Real, giving both girls a bit of a nest egg.
A few days later and back in Sao Paulo, we started the campaign for visa. We arrived early at the consulate and, having an appointment, we were quickly shown into the office of a consular agent. I guess it helped that my visiting card identified me as Vice-Chairman of the Council of German Software Developers, one of my little jobs that served to keep me busy. The agent turned out to be a young woman in her late twenties.
I sat after Gisele and Alicia, and waited for the opening gambit.
“Yes, Mr. Bergmann, isn’t it? What can I do for you?”
“Well, this is about these two young ladies, Senhoritas Gisele and Alicia Cuzmao. They were recently orphaned. I am a friend of the family, and I would like to sponsor their education in Germany. Gisele Cuzmao has a degree from the Sao Paulo State College, and her sister has finished High School with a 3.78 grade point average. They are both very gifted and I would like for them to continue their education under my sponsorship.”
The agent looked at me with the disillusioned eyes of a public servant who has already heard every imaginable piece of crock.
“I take it that they want to apply for student visa? For that, we need a letter of acceptance from a German school or university, plus a scholarship certificate from one of the recognised funding agencies.”
She noticed our looks and spread her hands.
“I’m not making those rules. You have to see that student visa have been misused heavily in the past, and we have strict guidelines.”
“Could they perhaps get visitors’ visa, to find schools that will accept them?”
“Yes, but then they will have to wait for one year, before they can apply for student visa. They are not relatives of yours by any chance, or have German ancestry?”
I shook my head, and Gisele drily answered, “I am not really the blonde, blue-eyed type.”
The agent smiled apologetically. She spoke to the girls.
“What you have to understand is that those rules were made to prevent the exploitation of young women.” She rose her hands to quell Gisele’s protestation. “I am not insinuating anything personally here. Those are general rules, and we cannot make exceptions based on whose story we believe or not. You would not want other girls to end up in brothels all over Europe.”
Gisele nodded. “I never thought of this. So there is no way for us?”
The agent shook her head. But I was not ready to give up, yet.
“In my experience, there are always bypasses for rules. Unofficially, how do the traffickers get the girls into Germany?”
“Unofficially? They have men who will marry the girl in form. The men get paid for that, and they get a divorce after three months.”
“I guess we need to discuss our options. Thank you for your time, I appreciate your openness.”
In sombre mood, we left the consulate and sat on a bench in a public park.
“What do we do now?” Alicia asked nobody in particular.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I never thought there’d be a problem.”
“I don’t want to stay in Ubatuba. They point their fingers at us and give us bad names,” Alicia said.
“As I can see it, there are just two options. I can help you move to another town here. Maybe find a boarding school for you, Alicia, and a university with a dormitory for you, Gisele.”
“And the other option?” Gisele asked with a clouded look.
“Yes, the other option. You could marry me on paper. As soon as you both are entitled to resident status, we can have a quiet divorce, and nobody is harmed.”
“Why?” Gisele asked with a choked voice.
“Because, as my wife you would automatically get resident status,” I answered stupidly.
“No, why a divorce?”
“To set you free, of course. I would not use this situation to coerce you into being my wife.”
“Oh!” she said, looking away. A thought seemed to have struck her. “But I can decide when I want to be set free?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, slightly put off.
“In that case, and only if you propose to me properly, I will agree. You know, when I dreamed of that moment as a girl, it was never like the man would say: ‘You know, the easiest was to solve our problem is to marry. So let’s!’. I want to be proposed to. Properly, too.”
In spite of myself, I had to smile at her viewpoint.
“In this case, why don’t I drop you off at the hotel. You can freshen up, and we can meet for lunch in the hotel restaurant at one?”
We took a taxi to the hotel, and I let the girls go up to their room while I asked the cabbie to drive me to a jeweller. The cabbie grinned and made me understand that a distant cousin of his had a pawn shop. Good selection, good prices, he maintained. I thought it could not hurt and let him take me there.
Indeed, it did not hurt. The pawn shop was on the small side, but clean and well-lit, and the cousin was happy to show me his best pieces. I saw what I wanted right away. There was an old-fashioned ring, made of gold and rubies. It was wonderful, a one carat ruby surrounded by six smaller diamonds. It was an antiquated design, but in its simplicity, it was timeless. It looked like a family heirloom. We haggled a little bit over the price tag. In the end, I bought the ring for a little over 20,000 Real. There was the matter of payment. He would not accept a credit card over this amount, but I had brought $5000 worth of old-fashioned traveller’s checks with me, foreseeing a need for cash at some point. I could only hope that the stones were real.
I let the cabbie drive me back to the hotel, and then I took another taxi and had myself driven to a real jeweller. I asked this man to clean and polish the ruby ring. Of course, I also wanted to have him ascertain that the stones were the real deal. He came back from his shop with a gleam in his eyes, asking me whether I wanted to sell this ring. I asked him why, and he told me that this was a piece by a famous designer from the 1920s.
“Priceless!” he exclaimed, and I agreed they were quite pretty. He squinted his eyes at me. “Did you buy these items in Sao Paulo?”
“Yes, at a pawn shop.”
“And what did you pay, if I may ask?”
“20,000 Real.”
He looked at it, too, and inspected it from all sides.
“20,000?” he groaned. “Senhor, the ring is worth at least 60,000 Real! You will not sell?”
“I bought this for my fiancée,” I answered.
“Say no more,” he sighed. “I see that you cannot part with this.”
I paid the man for his effort, and had myself driven to the hotel where it was almost time for lunch, and I went to pick up the girls. The restaurant was fairly crowded, but I could secure a table for us. While we had lunch, I could see that Gisele was apprehensive, but I wanted to wait for the dessert to pop the Question. I ordered champagne and strawberries for dessert, and when they arrived, and the glasses had been poured, I knelt before Gisele.
“Gisele, before your sister and all these people I ask you to become my wife. You know that I care for you, and you will make me the happiest man alive if you agree.”
Gisele blushed deeply, not prepared for this to happen in front of all those people in the crowded restaurant. But she found her resolve and nodded solemnly.
“Yes, Thomas, I want to become your wife.”
Alicia stared at us, her mouth hanging open.
“Please, Gisele, take this as pledge of my love for you,” I continued, placing the ring over her finger.
The ruby and diamonds contrasted wonderfully with the tanned skin of her slender hand.
“Thomas,” Gisele whispered, “this ring, it must have cost a fortune. You are crazy.”
“Crazy for you! And this afternoon, we will find out where we can marry as quickly as possible.”
In the end, we decided to go back to Ubatuba for the wedding. Gisele wanted to have two old school friends as her bridesmaids, and it was fine with me. It took us three weeks to organise everything. We stayed at the Agua Doce hotel during that time. Understandably, neither girl was in festive mood at first, and they stayed in their room most of the time. We went to Sao Paulo twice, to get an appropriate dress for Gisele. The preparations served to distract Gisele and Alicia from their mourning, though, and when the big day approached, Gisele began to smile at me again.
First, we had a civil ceremony. After that, we drove to a small chapel, where the young Jesuit priest, Father Anselmo, blessed our wedding in an abbreviated ceremony. A small number of her old friends from high school had shown, to Gisele’s surprise and delight. She was wearing a simply cut dress of white silk we had found in Sao Paulo, and to me, she looked like a queen. There were Ohs and Ahs from her friends, and we invited all to a quiet celebration with us. From my side, only Joao, the taxi driver, had come, and he had been my best man, a role that delighted him and his young and very pregnant wife. It was a pleasant gathering, and Gisele looked as happy as recent events allowed.
At one o’clock, Gisele threw her bouquet, and we left the terrace without much fanfare. The taxi brought us to Sao Paulo and the consulate where we presented our marriage certificate, passports, and the documents showing Gisele to be Alicia’s legal guardian. The agent congratulated us with a wry smile, and promised us to process the visa applications as fast as possible. Still, it was another week before the girls received their visa and another four days until we could snatch seats on a plane.
We were travelling light; all the belongings of the girls had been sent ahead by air freight, and all we had were duffle bags and a clothes bag. We bundled into a limousine and took off for the airport. With two hours to spare, we checked in. The girls were too apprehensive to be hungry, but I coaxed them into eating a sandwich each while we waited for the boarding call.
We were flying Air France, Sao Paulo to Paris, non-stop, and then another ninety minutes to Hamburg. Somehow, at the check-in, they had seen that we had married a week ago, probably from Gisele’s passport. We had just taken off, when the Captain spoke through the intercom, felicitating the newlyweds, namely us. A bottle of decent champagne was brought for us, courtesy of Air France, and Gisele smiled shyly at the other passengers as they toasted us.
While Alicia immersed herself in the tiny TV set, flipping through the channels, Gisele and I used the opportunity to talk some more. I finally took the plunge and asked her why she had done that movie. She was thoughtful for a moment, but then she set her jaw.
“It started with Giulio. He was my first boyfriend. We had been going for almost four months, and finally, one evening after a dance, we went to his place. His parents were out dancing themselves, and he became my first that night. We repeated this a few times, until one night, his parents came home earlier and caught us. Oh, Giulio’s mother was livid! His father is a dentist, and she thinks she is so much better than people like me. She called my mother and told her to pick up her slut of a daughter. You can imagine how my mother felt. She grounded me forever; no more dances, no more going out on Saturdays. And the worst was that Giulio avoided me. Once I cornered him, and he told me that he could not see me anymore, that I was not good for him.”
I gently rubbed her shoulder while she relived the hurt.
“The next weekend, I was on the beach, alone. There was Giulio with his friends, and he did not even greet me. When this older man came and paid me compliments, I thought I’d make Giulio jealous by flirting with that man. Giulio did not even look up. I was so desperate that I went with that man to the nice house. They had a swimming pool, they gave me things to drink, complimented me, told me how beautiful I was. They really made me feel good. Then one guy pulled out a camera and started to film me in the pool. And the other man, he held me from behind and whispered all those nice things into my ear. It just went gradually. Take off that top! Come on, show your tits! Just hold his dick in your hand. Come on kiss it! It was piece by piece, and they gave me to drink all the time. In the end, they gave me 100 dollars, a fortune. I bought myself a dress and shoes and blue jeans, and soon the money was gone. I did not remember much about that afternoon, but then, a few weeks later when I was back in Sao Paulo — how do you say? — the shit hit the fan. The dean summoned me to his office, and told me I was a tramp who brought shame over his fine school. They kicked me out. You have married a stupid woman, Thomas.”
“Ssh! You were naive, maybe, not experienced, and you were set up. You made a mistake, but you learned from it. Forget that now. You will start from scratch where nobody knows you.”
After the in-flight dinner, Gisele and I decided to skip the movie, and rather try and sleep. Not so Alicia, who could not get enough of the in flight entertainment. I suspect, she did not sleep a minute. I did not either, at first. Gisele had folded the armrest away, and had rolled up on the seat like a cat, with her head in my lap. She had taken my right arm under her own and pressed my hand to her breast. Nothing was between my hand and her breast but a thin layer of raw silk, the most sensuous feeling imaginable. Her legs and lower body were covered by a flimsy blanket, and the thought of her slim, tanned legs under the thin fabric fired my arousal. She must have noticed, for she placed a cushion under her head, giving me a friendly smile and releasing my hand. This way, my erection abated to the point that Gisele could sleep undisturbed. Myself, I must have dozed off, too, because I awoke with a start when the cabin lights came on and the usual hot wash rags were given out.
Gisele woke up, too. She gave me a smile and a kiss, and then gratefully applied the hot wash cloth to her face and neck. I felt a certain urge and rose from my seat to find the heads. There was a line in front of them. A few seconds later, a man joined the queue. He patted my shoulder and I turned.
“Say, that’s a nice pair you got. You really married one of them?”
“I beg your pardon?” I had just woken up, and I was a bit slow on the uptake.
“They’re sisters, aren’t they. Gosh, I had sisters once, too, not as pretty as yours, but they gave me my money’s worth. Them spic sluts know how to suck you dry, eh?”
“Exactly what are you talking about?”
“Them two hotties, goddammit! Myself, I never thought of marrying one of ‘em. Why take one, when you can have ‘em all? And fuck, I can have ‘em all, can’t I?”
“You’re disgusting. Just leave me and my wife alone!”
“Yeah, sure!” he sneered.
Luckily, the restroom was free now. I left him standing and locked myself in. What an asshole! I flushed, washed my hands, and left the restroom. He was gone, thankfully, probably in the other galley. I walked back to my seat. Gisele was fully awake now and smiled at me. Just then, Mister Asshole loomed over us. He held five banknotes into my face.
“These 100 bucks say she’ll suck another dick before the year’s over! Wanna bet?”
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