International Flavors Pt 01

This is Part One of a two-part story.

I don't consider myself particularly good-looking, and I don't have an exceptionally large cock. I guess I'm not the wittiest guy in the world, and I certainly don't have all that much money. And though I do love women, love everything about them and have always loved everything about them, I was never really

that

kind of guy. Consequently, I am as surprised as anyone by the story I'm about to tell. But I can assure you, it happened. How I don't know, but it did happen.

It all started about five years ago when the mid-sized, global company that I had been working for since I finished college folded, closed up shop faster than anything I've ever seen before. One day hundreds of us spread across the country and in several other nations on three continents had jobs, worked with clients, made money -- then, the next day the corporate executives declared Chapter 7 bankruptcy, and before the week was out, we were all asked to leave our respective buildings in a half dozen different states and four countries around the world. No notice, no severance, no explanations.

Later, we got a little information. We were told our pensions were protected, but then it was discovered that several senior executives had conspired to embezzle a sizable portion of that pension money from the trust in which it was held to help fund company business. Presumably, this was done to stave off bankruptcy. It didn't work.

Soon, those executives were headed to prison, and because most of the money was gone, we employees became the company's creditors, just like all of the businesses to which they owed "real" money, and thus, we knew that, at best, we could expect to collect pennies on the dollar for what we'd put away for retirement. In short, we were fucked. Maybe we could have organized a lawsuit, but that seemed nearly impossible considering how spread apart we were and how divergent our priorities and interests.

Most of us didn't even have a chance to ask our supervisors if they could write letters of reference for us. Everyone was gone in the blink of an eye, and we were pretty much left to our own devices to file for unemployment and, subsequently, to find alternative jobs.

I was one of the lucky ones. I just happened to have a friend from college who was working for another mid-sized, global company called

OccSafe

that was headquartered in the same small, California city where I lived. The company conducted occupational safety audits of manufacturers throughout the world. That job opened up only a week after I found myself unemployed, and my friend, who didn't even live in California, managed to get me an interview.

Since I had experience in my previous position as someone who could provide communications expertise, internal trainings for our various employees related to the services that we offered, as well as external trainings for our clients, I was in a perfect spot to qualify for a nearly identical position with

OccSafe

. I went through a rather extensive interview process, and, long story short, I was lucky enough to get the job. As it turned out, really lucky.

The first two years in my new position were pretty uneventful, and I just tried my best to learn the ropes and understand the corporate lay of the land, so to speak. I learned who did their jobs well and who did not, who could be trusted and who could not, and over that span of years, my performance reviews were solid, if not spectacular. Truth be told, I was consumed with what was happening at home between my wife and me. After a number of years of marriage, things were not good.

Then, three years ago,

OccSafe

hired a new CEO, and he began to implement some rather significant changes. The changes took a little while to actually take shape, but pretty soon some people -- all of whom absolutely deserved it -- were fired, and new people were hired in their places -- people from all around the world, including some from a number of our foreign headquarters, and things started to look differently around the office. In general, that was good, very, very good!

And when that happened, it started becoming more and more difficult to concentrate at work. It might not have been so troublesome, if the distractions weren't so pervasive. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but having one or two good-looking, exotic, young women around would be one thing, but when the distractions came by the dozens, it seemed to me that I wasn't getting much done on a lot of days.

At first, I started to wonder if my job might be in jeopardy considering the number of times each week that I was being pushed by my overheated libido to run off to the nearest bathroom to toss myself off. But instead, over the last year and a half or so, my work has never been more highly praised by my bosses, and I've now come to believe that these young beauties have inadvertently contributed to the recent high regard in which I'm held by my superiors. There's a story in that, but, be patient, I'll get to it.

Furthermore, considering the multicultural climate established by the new CEO and, therefore, the implausible diversity of beautiful women of all different nationalities and backgrounds, not to mention assorted shapes, sizes and colors, my libido has been the recipient of the maximum amount of inspiration of late. There has been so much variety in the talent pool that I don't think my dick is ever going to get a break. It's a nice problem to have, or so I thought.

I'm staring right now at the next impossibly sexy distraction in the office, and it's driving me nuts. Now the object of my steadfast attention is Luna Solis, a young, single, Mexican-American woman that I've enlisted to help translate some training materials that I've been charged with creating.

Luna is unique looking to say the least. Though she told me last week that she was born in Guadalajara and lived there until she was part way through elementary school, she is perhaps the most unusual looking Mexican woman I've ever seen. For one thing, she has naturally red, curly hair and a very pale skin complexion, both of which complement possibly the most stunningly perfect body on which I've ever laid eyes.

For starters, she's got these huge, all-natural tits -- they're not only massive, but they're also perfectly shaped, with puffy, pale pink areolas and nipples -- and the fact that they sit atop the rest of her stunning form makes looking away difficult, to say the least.

Employing my nearly uncanny ability to judge not only bust sizes, but the rest of a woman's measurements simply by looking, I would wager a pretty confident guess that Luna wears a 37 DD bra, and her massive bosom tapers beautifully into a tiny waist, which then rounds downward to an incredibly slender ass. Her waistline can't be much more than about 22 inches around, and her taut, little butt is to die for. Maybe her hips are 33 inches in circumference, but I seriously doubt that they could possibly be much bigger than that. Add to the equation the fact that she doesn't have a hint of fat anywhere on her five foot six inch frame, and you can begin to understand my dilemma.

Today, this set of circumstances is made all that much worse by the fact that I fucked that superb body last night, and now in the midst of a chaotic, office setting, Luna keeps looking over towards me, smiling provocatively and utilizing a dizzying array of incredibly sexy, little tropes to keep me perpetually sidetracked. Oh, and one other thing, besides that stunning body, she has a really pretty face, too. The bottom line is that considering her name, Luna Solis beams like the sun, the moon, and the stars and any light source anywhere in between.

I'm guessing that Luna is the product of one European parent and another Mexican one. The reason I say that, without a shred of evidence to support my theory, is that besides Luna's light auburn hair and pale skin, she has these tiny, pale freckles, all over her face. They become considerably more pronounced when she spends any time in the sun, so, in short, she doesn't. That is apparently why her skin color is so light.

But there are other unusual things about Luna's appearance. Her red hair is really light, almost blonde and clearly isn't dyed. Add to that equation the fact that she has these really dark-brown eyebrows suspended above a pair of golden brown eyes and the combination has the unique ability to draw your attention to her face.

Luna also wears a lot of makeup, especially around those eyes, and her eyelashes are about a foot long (okay, I'm exaggerating), but when she bats them provocatively at me, like she is doing right now, all I can think about is pummeling her frothy pussy until I make her cum numerous times.

Then, there's her nose. I can't place exactly what about it is different -- maybe the shape -- which seems almost Eastern European, and certainly the little, gold hoop nose ring that dangles from her left nostril. The full effect is clearly unusual, and I find it particularly appealing.

And that beauty makes matters even worse, because, as I've already mentioned, Luna is only one of dozens of other gorgeous women from all around the world that have paraded their fabulous forms passed me each and every hour of each and every day for the past two years, and now I've sampled numerous flavors from that international smorgasbord of sensual delights, and I'm really afraid that my eager cock has painted me into a corner. More on that part of the story later.

In the latter half of my 30 some years, I have not normally been that much of a libertine. In fact, in my opinion, I had led a pretty staid and conservative married life. Yeah, I had my share of affairs when I was in college, but since I met Sheila during my senior year and we fell in love with each other, I decided that I would be more than content to spend the rest of my life with one woman. We were married only eight months after we both graduated college, and for ten years, I was a faithful and, I believed, attentive and caring husband.

But since I divorced Sheila about two and half years ago -- right after I discovered that she'd been having a nine-month affair with one my colleagues -- I've been sticking my dick into more pussy than I could ever have imagined. Sure, my divorce freed me up to pursue other women, and my employer cooperated by hiring a bevy of beautiful, young things, but there is another more complicated explanation for my newfound lustfulness.

Just a month or so after I filed for divorce, I had an appointment with my doctor. I needed a routine checkup, but I was also having trouble sleeping, what with the stress of all of my marital problems. We didn't have children, and since Sheila had her own job and earned nearly as much money as I did, the divorce settlement promised to be as simple as could be desired. I proposed splitting everything right down the middle, and Sheila didn't contest that. But I was distraught nonetheless. I couldn't help but feel inadequate in some way, and so I couldn't sleep no matter how much I drank each night before passing out.

My doctor ordered some tests and conducted the standard examination, and it was during that checkup that he found something a little unusual. Though I was only 33 at the time, he informed me that I had a slightly enlarged prostate. He said it was not that big a deal at the moment, but, he also said, if it got larger, I could end up with a number of serious medical issues that could affect me in a lot of different ways, not the least of which was sexual dysfunction.

That got my attention and had me pretty scared, even though at the time, I had no one with whom to be dysfunctional. But that seemed beside the point. The doctor said that he wasn't going to prescribe any medications for me -- that he would instead monitor the situation -- but he did mention that patients of his had had good luck using a number of different types of supplements to improve prostate health.

I decided to investigate, and this opened up a whole new world of homeopathic options to me that I had no idea even existed. These options were available for an entire range of medical issues, not just prostate problems, but I decided to pursue possible solutions to the latter.

I found some literature that talked about a combination of supplements, a kind of prostate cocktail, if you will, that, rather than being a single proprietary blend that cost an arm and a leg, was a mix of four relatively inexpensive dietary supplements, most of which could be purchased over the counter at any pharmacy or large chain store. I bought soy lecithin, L-citrulline, zinc, and pygeum extract, and between the four, I was only paying a little more than $20 for a month's supply of all of them. It seemed worth the price to find out what the effects might be, and though they were not what I expected, boy, did I start to feel them!

After several weeks, the supplements began having startling effects on me that, while they were separate and apart from addressing my prostate health, had a palpable impact on my sexual libido. I'm not kidding! I started feeling like I was 18 years old again, and soon I was the randiest motherfucker on the block!

At first I thought that everything I was feeling was just a sort of a placebo effect. But then, I realized that I really did feel differently, and it became obvious that I wasn't imagining things. So, because I continued to take the supplements, the feelings persisted -- I was horny all the time, and attracted to pretty much any woman under the age of 50 or so, and a few that were clearly on the leeward side of that demarcation.

It didn't matter where I saw them, at work, in stores, restaurants or bars, or even just driving or walking around. If I saw a woman that was even a little bit attractive -- and, truth be told, I started thinking that

all

of them were at least somewhat attractive -- I thought about having sex with her.

And the effects of the supplements were not just physiological, they were psychological and behavioral as well, and soon I came to realize that what they had apparently done was to somehow increase my testosterone levels.

At least that's my theory. I came to believe that the effects that I was having were consistent with higher levels of the hormone: feelings of well-being (and a reduction in depression, coupled with mild euphoria); greater confidence (reduced social anxiety and greater assertiveness); energy improvements and greater work capacity; motivation (greater ambition); increased sex drive/libido and heightened response times (shorter refractory period, making me ready to fuck again only minutes after cumming); improved concentration (greater ability to complete complex mental tasks); increases in strength and muscle mass; and a reduction in body fat, as well as a higher basal metabolic rate.

Maybe those effects seem less than significant to some of you, so I should probably explain the precise state from which I had emerged after my divorce. During the last few months of my time with my ex-wife, I was depressed, lethargic, drinking heavily, and beginning to put on a significant amount of weight. I didn't do much of anything -- sat at home lamenting my sorry life, while my skanky wife was gallivanting around town with the Director of Marketing.

Then I went to see the doctor. After filing for divorce, I was having trouble sleeping alone in the bed I had shared with my wife, and I wanted him to prescribe or recommend a sleep aid. That's when I found out about my prostate, and once I started to take those supplements, the sleeping problems ceased to be an issue.

It was shocking! All of sudden, my whole life changed! My depression lifted like the marine layer receding each morning above the coastal city I call home. I was happier, even euphoric at times, and I began to develop this incredibly surprising sense of optimism about every aspect of my life.

I started to view my divorce as the best thing that had ever happened to me, and rather than understanding it as my wife's rejection of everything about me, I began to see at as an opportunity to show the world -- or at least the diverse group of ladies in it that I was quickly getting to know well -- what I had to offer.

In addition, I was getting more done at work, even though I was putting in less time actually doing work-related business and, maybe more importantly, the quality of that work was much better, or so I was told. I just know it was easier to think, strategize, and develop solutions to issues that arose in the workplace -- that is, until another beautiful woman walked by my office.

Because I had more energy, I started exercising more, and as my metabolism increased, I began dropping weight like crazy and somehow adding muscle, almost without trying. I lost 45 pounds in only a few months, as well as six inches off my waistline, while my shoulders, upper arms, thighs, and core are now almost incomprehensibly ripped. I'm in better shape right now that I've been in my entire life.

And then came the really surprising stuff! I was never very aggressive with women, and, as I mentioned before, I got married right after college, so I was completely out of the loop when it came to the whole seduction game, the sensual tango for two to which the single people around the office or at the restaurants or bars that I frequented often cut the proverbial rug.

But now, because I had somehow acquired this fresh, new sense of confidence and assertiveness and because I was probably a whole lot more physically appealing than I had been, when I started smiling at them, women everywhere started smiling back. I was more self-assured in talking to them and bolder in asking them out and then steering them to the bedroom. Maybe it was the fact that everyone in the office knew that I was single again and looking, but women started practically throwing themselves at me.

And it wasn't just women at work. If I went out to a bar or a restaurant by myself, which I began to do more and more frequently, especially after my boss gifted me with a huge raise about a year ago, women would come up to me to introduce themselves. They would sit down next to me at the bar, and start up conversations with me, and when those conversations inevitably led to sexual encounters, I became sort of a cross between Casanova and Don Juan in the bedroom.

Everything related to my sexuality had changed with my increased libido. More blood was rushing to my overworked junk on a nonstop basis, and both my balls and my cock appeared to be bigger even when I wasn't aroused. When I was, my engorged fuck stick was harder than I can ever remember it being, and I had more stamina and staying power than ever before. The ladies really seemed to like that.

The more women that I had, the more frequently others seemed to want me. And yet, somehow that never seemed to be a problem, at least not to me. Regardless of how often I was having sex with different women, I was always ready for more, and strangely, even all that sex with all those women never seemed to be enough.

I would get hard-ons in the middle of staff meetings, driving to and from work, or while I sat in restaurants having dinner, and if there was no one who could immediately attend to my lustful thoughts, I would take care of matters myself in the nearest bathroom.

And then when I did cum, it didn't seem to matter that I had cum twice, three times or more that same day. I was shooting more semen than a prized bull in a cattle breeding facility. My climaxes were more powerful and plentiful than they had ever been, even though I had ten times as many of them as I used to.

I also came to realize that to some women that made me a better catch than just about anything else. I was shocked to find out how many females had some kind of fetish or just simply a sexual preference for being bathed in a man's cum, and when I shot one of those massive cumshots on the face of one of the various lovely ladies that I began bedding on a regular basis, they started asking me, even begging me, to unleash my supply of ball juice on their beautiful countenances every time we were together.