Diplomatic Relations 3

It was an important discussion, hosted by Canadian Prime Minister John Parker. The leaders of the nations of the Western hemisphere, from Canada to Chile and Argentina, would come together to discuss climate change and American economic integration. Every nation's leader was there, including the President of the United States Brittany Sizemore and her son Dean.

Dean was a tall guy, 6'3. He had his mother's piercing blue eyes and dark black hair (except she regularly dyed hers blonde). He wore a black suit to fit in with the formal requirement. Underneath, though, he was pretty muscular. He did play baseball in high school and recently signed up for Yale's team.

Brittany told her son to go talk to a nearby group of South American leaders while she had a talk with Prime Minister Parker. Dean and his mom were of the same mind. Many senators found that if they couldn't speak to his mom, they could speak to him. Any objections he had to a bill were often the same ones she'd have. They both had the same views and same philosophical and moral outlook. He also looked like a guy version of her. So, he could always act as her liaison if needed.

Dean told his mom he loved her and gave her a hug and kiss. She did the same. On his way there, he could see the cadre of leaders, their army of translators, and way too many diplomats. He introduced himself to the Presidents of Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Bolivia, and Peru and requested that they find somewhere more private to talk. They agreed.

Away from the crowd and the diplomats, Dean started talking about the need for economic integration. "Economic integration is great for your countries. You would have access to the largest market in the world where even a niche product can be worth billions."

"But what about you? What would the US get out of this?" the President of Bolivia, Andrea Rodriguez, asked through her translator.

"Well, it's true that it probably wouldn't make much of an impact on us economically, we would see increased immigration from your countries. That will create millions of jobs, millions of businesses, etc."

"So, you want to steal our people? Harvest us for workers?" the President of Peru, Rodrigo Tasso, asked through his translator.

"No, no. Yes, they'll come here in the millions but they'll send back remittance checks. The workers from Central America do the same. They'll come here, send back a few thousand a month to their families, and that can go a long way in helping your economies."

"Chile is not some resource colony for you to steal from and gives us back only a small percentage."

Dean tried to convince them, but everyone except Brazil's president left. Dean felt like he messed that one up. "Well, at least you're still here, President dos Santos."

"Call me Gisele," she said, smiling a seductive, coy smile. "We can talk about this in private. Come to my hotel room."

"Uh, yeah, sure. It'd be nice to get away from all this noise."

Gisele Maria dos Santos was elected only two years ago, having been a senator for a few years. Prior to that, she had had an interesting career. When she was 20, she won the famous Miss Bumbum pageant. After that, she became a very famous model. The magazines called her the it girl of Ipanema, the neighborhood she was from. She dated celebrities, appeared on talk shows, hosted awards shows, etc. For years, she was an ubiquitous sight across Brazil.

After 12 years of modelling and with her career on the downturn, she joined the reality show Real Housewives of Rio. She was now less of an icon and more of a tabloid fixture. But she knew she couldn't sit around and get in fights for a TV audience. It was too depressing to be reduced to that. At the age of 40, she decided to mount a long shot bid to become a senator for the Workers' Party, o Partido dos Trabalhadores, and won to everyone's surprise. Six years later, she became president. And now, she was taking a man 30 years younger than her up to her hotel room to "get to know him."

Gisele's room was a luxurious suite in the nearby Hilton. It had a queen-sized bed with silk sheets, a hot tub, and various pieces of art and sculptures. She gestured for Dean to sit in a nearby chair. She sat across from him. She made sure he was close enough for her to casually touch him as she talked to him.

"So, you wanted to discuss economic integration between the Americas?" Dean asked. He could feel his heart starting to race. He knew something might happen.

She rubbed his knee and said, "That is an important discussion but I have something else in mind for now."

The first thought that popped into Dean's head was, "Gosh, she has a sexy accent." But he stammered out a simple "what?" as her hand travelled up his thigh.

"How old are you, Mr. Sizemore?"

"I turned 18 a few months ago. And you can call me Dean."

"You're so young, Dean. But you're not like other young men, are you? You're smart. You're more...mature. I bet girls your age think you're boring. Am I right?"

Her hand was on his chest, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt. "Y-yeah. I've never been for clubs and stuff. I like quiet moments. And a lot of people outside my family think the stuff I talk about, mostly business and politics, is boring."

"You're an old soul, Dean. When I heard you back there, it sounded like I was listening to a 50 year old, not someone as young and full of passion as you. I bet you've always felt more comfortable with older people, right? You're a man, Dean. Girls your age want boys. What you need is a woman. A mature woman. An older woman. Do you agree?"

Her hand cupped his cheek. He could smell her Chanel No. 5. He smiled. "I do."

She smiled back. Dean wasn't some stupid, clueless boy. He wanted her. He wanted her to give him a little chase. "You know what's ironic, Dean? Women my age are at the peak of our libidos but our men are as limp as a dying fish. Men your age can get hard from a casual breeze but your women treat you like annoying little pests. And yet it's perfectly ok for our men to date and fuck your women but if you and I do what we want to do to each other then it's scandalous. It's wrong. Somehow."

"I mean if women your age are at their sexual peak and men my age are at ours, it seems like nature is telling us something."

Gisele gave him a sultry stare. "You know I used to be a model? I had one of the best asses in Brazil. I'm sorry. I misspoke. I have the best ass in Brazil," she said as she started to undress.

She took her pants off first. She was not lying. It was the size of a watermelon, creamy white wrapped in black lingerie. She gave it a little slap and it jiggled like gelatin. "All natural. The magnificent tits and lips perfectly crafted for pleasuring men, however, came from the miracles of modern plastic surgery."

She had large G cup boobs, wrapped nicely in a black bra. She let her tired, aged blonde hair down. She kissed Dean on the lips. He could taste the strawberry-flavored lip balm she had on. She moved down to his neck then began unbuttoning his shirt. Once a button was undone, she gave that part of his chest a little kiss.

She did this until she took off his pants. She was delighted to see his hard cock trying to break free of his boxer briefs. She always got an immense satisfaction from making a man hard, especially a younger man. Free from its cloth prison, she stopped for a bit to admire his cock in all its 7 inch glory. "Damn," she thought. "Mature, smart, confident. He was made for cougars."

She gave the underside of the tip a little kiss before wrapping her lips around the head and surprising Dean by swallowing the whole thing in one big gulp. He let out a high pitched shriek. His face turned red from embarassment. She thought it was cute.

"You're so big, Dean. Bigger than most of the men I know."

Her tongue danced around his cock while she bobbed up and down. She could see him gripping the chair. Dean wasn't a virgin. He'd had sex a few times before. Gisele was amazing. She was better than any girl he'd ever been with.

She let his manhood pop out of her mouth. "You know, Dean, with age comes experience," she said. "And I have a lot of experience pleasuring men. I bet I know what you'll like before you do. For example, I bet you'll love this." She went for his balls, slipping both gently in her wet mouth. Her tongue played with them while she gave them a gentle sucking. His spit-soaked dick rubbed against her face. It was such a turn-on for Dean. She was right. He loved this.

She let him out of her mouth again and licked from his balls to the head of his cock. Her tongue brushed the sensitive underside. He let out a shriek. "Sorry," he said. "You're so good."

She gave the tip a kiss and it throbbed in response. "I enjoy hearing you moan, Dean. Own it. You're going to be doing it a lot tonight."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked. He obviously knew. He just wanted to hear her say it.

She gave his cock a long lick. "Tonight, you're going to fuck me like a man who came back from war. Raw, passionate, hungry. I've sucked off many men, Dean, but few men have enjoyed my ass and fewer have enjoyed my pussy. Tonight, you'll enjoy both."

Before he could ask why she gave him head, she swallowed his cock whole and pushed him over the edge. She let it slip out of her mouth a bit so she could taste it. Dean grunted and felt like his soul was being pumped out of his body. Gisele was proud that she made him cum so much. Also, he tasted sweet.

Dean was exhausted and felt like he'd run a marathon. Gisele got dressed and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "See you tonight."