Before They Were Stars - Scarlet Red free porn video

When you spend forty to fifty weeks out of a year traveling for business, you try to work in a little vacation whenever circumstances permit.

August of 2010 was one of those times. I had to participate in a symposium on technical certifications for the IT industry that was scheduled in Breckenridge, Colorado. The event in Breckenridge would run Tuesday through Thursday, which would allow me to leave on Friday.

At a charity silent auction two years previous, I had won a one-week ownership of a timeshare in Vail, Colorado, but had never been there to use it. Vail is only around fifty miles from Breckenridge, and there is rumored to be some pretty good trout fishing in the area, so I tagged a week of vacation onto my Colorado trip.

I flew into Colorado Springs on Monday instead of Denver. Since Stapleton International Airport got replaced by the newer airport, I avoid flying into Denver as much as possible. I also liked the fact that with fewer passengers, I was able to reserve a Mustang convertible as my rental car without an upgrade charge.

I had plenty of time to get to Breckenridge and wanted to make the trip a leisurely one. After programming my destination into the GPS and specifying “No Freeways”, I followed the directions west from the airport and eventually north through some of the most beautiful mountain scenery I had ever experienced. I reached the Breckenridge Resort mid-afternoon and was checked-in shortly thereafter.

Traveling as much as I did, the opportunities for consistent exercise routines were challenging. Sure, most hotels had a workout facility, but the equipment was variable and frequently non-functioning. I had learned that the most consistent exercise available to me was swimming, which I enjoyed immensely. The resort had both a heated indoor pool that was open year-round and an outdoor pool that was open on a seasonal basis.

After swimming laps in the mostly empty pool for about twenty minutes, I retreated to a table under an umbrella on the pool deck where I had left my towel, sunglasses, and Blackberry so I could keep an eye on them while I was in the pool. I took a chair and surveyed the scenery, and I mean Mother Nature’s scenery, not the feminine scenery that was on display around the pool area. I was trying to check e-mail on my Blackberry, holding it at different levels and angles to minimize the glare on the screen, when I heard someone speaking to me.

“Don’t you ask a person’s permission before taking their picture?”

I glanced away from the screen and into a pair of the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen on a woman – well, actually, in this case, a girl. She had shoulder-length blonde hair that was worn pushed back behind her ears. She was quite tall; probably around five-feet-nine inches, slender but curves in all the right places. She was wearing the uniform of one of the resort servers, but since she didn’t have a name badge visible or her hair secured, I assumed that she was off the clock.

I lowered my sunglasses and studied her for a few seconds before responding, “First of all, I wouldn’t use the camera on this thing to take a picture of anything I wanted to capture and keep. Secondly, if I was taking a picture from where I am sitting, it would be of the scene behind you.”

In a bitchy tone that I didn’t deserve, she asked, “Why wouldn’t you want to take a picture of me? You into boys or something?”

I chuckled and shook my head, “I didn’t say that I wouldn’t want to take a picture of you, I said that if I was taking a picture from where I am sitting, it would be of the mountains behind you. I’m sure that you are very photogenic, but you would deserve something better than the crappy camera on this device.”

I held up my Blackberry for her to see what I was referring to. I was still using the Blackberry Bold, model 9000 which came with only a two-megapixel camera. Taking a picture of an inanimate object such as a network switch or serial number plate was one thing. Trying to capture a pretty girl’s face was something else entirely.

“So you would want to take my picture,” she said, this time with a smile that showed her beautiful teeth in all their glory, “but you didn’t answer my question about whether you were into boys or something.”

I laughed again and said, “I thought that was a rhetorical question.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” she said. “In my experience, a man with a physique like yours, as tanned and toned as you are and wearing a Speedo swimsuit is usually gay and trying to show off his wares to other men.”

“I don’t mean to sound condescending,” I said, “but you appear to have led a rather sheltered life. Can you take my drink order now, or did you want to question me further?”

She stared at me for a few more seconds, during which time her gaze lowered to my lap, almost involuntarily. My towel was draped over my shoulders so she would have a clear view of my swimsuit when she glanced down.

Finally, she spoke, “I don’t start working for another thirty minutes, and I only work part-time serving at catered events. I’m not old enough to serve alcoholic beverages, so I couldn’t take your drink order anyway. I’ll let someone know to come out and take it for you, though.”

I said, “Thank you,” and then went back to checking my e-mail, ignoring the pretty but pesky little tart as she walked into the resort building.

Being a subject matter expert on several industry certifications, I found myself surrounded by people who wanted to try and get free consultations from me every time there was a break in the symposium presentations. While I don’t mind providing ‘teaser samples’, I made good money consulting on certification training programs, test preparation tools and the like, so I always tried to politely steer people towards my billable consultations rather than providing them too much for free.

I had enjoyed a large breakfast so that I could utilize the lunch break period for making or re-establishing business contacts. I had a cup of iced tea but ignored the various food stations. My pretty pool-side pest was working as a server at the symposium’s catered lunch. Working at the dessert table, I noticed her glancing at me several times when I was speaking with someone else. Strictly out of curiosity, when I had a pause in people wanting to talk to me, I went in search of something ‘sweet’.

Offering me a plate of freshly baked cookies, she said, “You seem popular. Does everyone here know you?”

Now that she had her employee badge on, I could see that her name was ‘Charlotte’. Somehow that didn’t seem to fit her, but it was probably just my perception of that name seeming more appropriate for a girl with a southern accent or something.

“I certainly hope everyone here doesn’t know me,” I said with a chuckle. “That might be bad for business.”

She handed a plate of cookies to another participant without even looking at him and then said to me, “What type of business are you in, Greg? I assume it has something to do with IT since you’re here...”

So, she read the name on my name tag. “I own a consulting business,” I explained. “IT certification and training are just two of several areas that we consult companies on. I thought that you worked evenings, Charlotte.” Two can play that game.

“I work when the catered events are scheduled. Most of them are in the evening, but some are lunches such as this. It’s just part-time until the end of this week. They won’t need the extra help again until the ski season gets here.”

“I see,” I said. “Well don’t work too hard. I better get back to the presentations.”

“Sure,” she said with a grin. “I’ll see you around.”

I didn’t give her comments any consideration until later that afternoon when I ran into her on the pool deck. She had taken the vest and tie portion of her uniform off and was sitting at the table where we had met yesterday. There was a magazine in her hand and a bottle of water on the table. I looked around for another location to place my belonging when I swam where I could see them from the pool. She saw me looking around and motioned me over.

“I see you’re going for a swim again,” she said. Her eyes roamed up and down my body as she spoke. “Go ahead and leave your stuff here. I’ll watch it for you.”

Now, I’m not a bodybuilder or professional athlete, but as I approach forty, I bear a striking resemblance to the way I looked when I swam competitively while attending UCLA. I no longer shave all my body hair or wear a swim cap, but the physical attributes and stamina remain. I have considered entering one of the iron man competitions but can never find time in my schedule for it.

I set my towel onto the table opposite her, placed my sunglasses on to of it, and then positioned my Blackberry between the arms of the glasses.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll probably be about twenty or thirty minutes, so if you have to leave, don’t worry about my stuff. I can watch it from the pool.”

She tore her eyes away from her examination of me long enough to glance at my items and asked, “Don’t you have a room key?”

I turned slightly and tapped my right hip to indicate where I had slid my card key inside my swimsuit. Her eyes darted quickly to the profile of my manhood visible from the side before glancing up once more. She was biting her lower lip but said nothing as I walked towards the pool and dove in.

Not being certain that she would still be sitting at the table once I had finished swimming laps, I continued to glance that way every few laps. The magazine she had been reading never left her lap as she kept her focus on me. I considered cutting my laps short so that she wouldn’t feel obligated to stay, but then I remembered that I had given her permission to leave any time that she wanted.

When I left the pool and began walking back to the table, my eyes met hers and we remained locked on each other during my approach. She held up a hand when I was about five feet from the table, imploring me to stop.

“Can I take a picture of you?” she asked.

I raised an eyebrow and asked, “Why would you want to take a picture of me? I’m just a wet old man.”

Grinning broadly, Charlotte said, “You certainly don’t look like any old man that I’ve ever known. Besides, I have some friends who I think will agree with me so I want to be able to show them a picture of you. Do you mind.”

I laughed and said, “Knock yourself out but make it quick. I need to go shower and get ready for my dinner meeting.”

Charlotte held up her cellphone and studied the screen. She had one of the recently released Apple iPhone 4’s. I followed her instructions for the poses that she wanted, trying to keep from laughing at the seriousness of her expression while she took several shots. I noticed that she focused my poses on ones that would emphasize everything inside my swimsuit. If anything above my shoulders appeared in any of the pictures, it would have been entirely coincidental.

“Can I dry off now?” I asked when she finally lowered her cellphone. She had a flushed complexion on her face and she was once more biting her lower lip. She just nodded and remained seated as she watched me.

After drying my hair, I finger combed it and put on my sunglasses. I checked my Blackberry for any e-mails that might have arrived while I was in the pool to make certain that my dinner plans for the evening hadn’t changed. They hadn’t.

“Well,” I said, “I hope you have a good evening, Charlotte. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow again at lunch.”

“What are you doing after your dinner meeting?” she asked. The now almost constant biting of her lower lip was making it swell slightly.

Man, she had great lips. Young, possibly jail bait young, but great none the less.

“Why?” I asked.

She hesitated before answering, “I don’t want to get in the way of any work or anything, but if you’re just going to be watching TV or something like that, maybe we could talk some.”

“Talk?” I asked. “Talk about what exactly?”

“Well, mostly I want to talk about you,” she said. “I kinda think you could help me understand some things.”

“What sort things do you think I can help you understand?”

“If we get into them now, you’ll probably be late for your dinner meeting,” she said as she stood. “Can we talk later?”

“How old are you?” I asked.

“I turned eighteen on August 1st.” Holding up her iPhone, she said, “This was the present from my mom.”

“My dinner meeting probably won’t be over until after eight o’clock,” I told her.

“Can I give you my phone number so you can call me when you’re done?” she asked. “I’ll come to your room or meet you someplace where alcohol isn’t served. I’m still underage for that.”

“I’ll tell you what,” I said, “Give me your number and I’ll call you when I get back to my room after dinner. If all you want to do is talk, we can do that over the phone tonight.”

“Are you afraid of me?” she asked with a wicked grin on her face. “Afraid of being alone with me or something?”

“Let’s talk on the phone first,” I told her. “If the conversation warrants more personal interaction, then we can meet up someplace.” She seemed like a sweet kid, so if I could help her, why not?

She just stared at me with a look of indecision on her face. I needed to get going.

I opened a new contact in my Blackberry and asked, “What is your phone number?”

She gave me the number and then I asked, “Do you want to tell me your last name so I can have a complete contract entry?”

“It’s Redford,” she said.

Beautiful blonde from Colorado? I had to know. “Any relation to...”

She laughed and said, “No, I think my mom is just a big fan of his.”

“Okay, well maybe you can explain that when we chat later,” I told her. “How late is too late to call you?”

“So, you will call me then?” she asked.

“Unless something else comes up,” I told her. I didn’t make a habit of hooking up with strange women while on business trips, but I was single, and me being hit on in a hotel bar was not unheard of. My conversation with Charlotte would definitely take a back seat to the opportunity for me to get laid.

“You can call any time,” Charlotte said as she rose from the chair. “Enjoy your dinner.”

Maybe it was the thought of hooking up with some strange woman and getting laid, but my appraisal of Charlotte’s teenaged bottom as she walked away required me to hold the towel in front of my body as I returned to my room.

I did have an opportunity to get laid, but not really. While a woman did make her interest in spending “some quality time with me”, as she put it, I never crap where I eat, so her being a potential client was a show-stopper.

Getting back to my room just after eight, I spent twenty minutes on urgent e-mails before stripping out of my clothes and crawling naked into the king-size bed. I propped pillows behind my back and glanced at the bedside table. On it was my Blackberry and the latest David Baldacci paperback. Decision time.

I picked up my phone and found Charlotte’s contact information. Staring at it for over a minute, remembering her curious nature, her confidence, and the almost pleading look that had been in her eyes earlier, I finally initiated the call.

“Hello,” she answered. Her voice was slightly slurred. I hoped that I hadn’t wakened her, but it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet, so that would have been unlikely.

“Hi, Charlotte. This is Greg, calling you as we agreed.”

“I know,” she giggled. “No one besides you and my mom have my number and I spoke with her an hour ago.”

“Okay, so what can I do for you, Charlotte? What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Do you have any pizza, Greg? Smoking pot always makes me crave pizza.”

I laughed at her openness, “No, Charlotte, I do not have any pizza. I had salmon for dinner.”

“You should come over. We could order a pizza to be delivered,” she said.

“You could do that without me being there,” I told her.

“Nope,” she said. “I don’t have any money for pizza. I won’t get paid until Friday. I could come over to your room and you could order pizza.”

I laughed again, “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

Her voice took on a more serious and sober tone, “Not hardly. If I had an answer for everything, I wouldn’t want to talk with you so badly.”

“That brings us back to the matter of what you want to talk to me about,” I chuckled.

“Your laughing at my munchies, aren’t you?”

“Actions have consequences, young lady,” I chided. “Maybe you should have waited to get high until after we chatted.”

“See, you’re already giving me good advice,” she giggled. “I knew you would.”

“You knew I would do what?” I asked.

“That you would give me good advice. I knew when I saw you in your swimsuit yesterday that you would be the right person.”

“Charlotte, I’m confused. How did seeing me in my swimsuit translate into me giving you good advice?”

“Because,” she said, “I need an unbiased adult to help me. I’m the confused one.”

“Maybe we ought to table this discussion until you come down some,” I suggested.

Ignoring my suggestion, she said, “Plus, everyone respects you so much. I asked people who I saw you talking to and all of them think the world of you. I think I can trust you too. Can I come over and see you so we can talk in person? I really need to talk to someone tonight.”

“Where do you live?” I asked her. I didn’t think it was a good idea to have a pretty young girl stumbling around the resort while she was high.

“I’m staying with a friend in an apartment near the ski lodge. She’s gone until tomorrow night.”

“Give me the address,” I told her, “and I’ll find you.”

She gave me a street address, but by her description of the building, I knew that I wouldn’t need it. It was located around the back side of the resort; an easy five-minute walk.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I told her. “Please don’t smoke any more weed until I get there.”

“No problem,” she said. “I’ll be glad to share it with you.”

That wasn’t what I meant, but I let it drop as I disconnected the call and began searching for something casual to wear. I pulled on a pair of workout shorts and a t-shirt. I didn’t bother with socks as I slipped into a pair of tennis shoes and tied them. Grabbing only my wallet and card key to the room, I headed for the lobby.

I had to walk past the gift shop on my way out, so I decided to see what they might have to take the edge off of Charlotte’s drug-induced appetite. The prices were outrageous, but I was expecting that to be the case. Potato chips, Oreo cookies and some sort of processed sausage sticks were the best I could do. I was knocking on what I hoped was the right door a few minutes later.

“Who is it?” asked Charlotte from behind the closed door.

“It’s Greg,” I replied. “I come bearing snacks.”

The door flew open and Charlotte jumped into my body as if she expected me to catch her. I did catch her, but I think the potato chips suffered in the process.

“I think I love you,” Charlotte said as she disengaged herself, took my free hand and pulled me into the apartment.

“Thanks, I guess,” I said. “Here are some snacks for you. I was going to get you something to drink, but all they had was beer.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “I have beer here. Well, technically, it’s my friend’s beer but I share my pot with her so she won’t mind. Would you like a beer?”

She was just too damn cute. I didn’t know if she was dressed for bed in her mid-rift tank-top and shorts, but that would be a reasonable assumption. What I did not have to assume was how her legs went on forever. I had only seen her in her uniform, which was a black vest over a long-sleeve white shirt and utilitarian black slacks. I was enamored with her playful innocence.

“Sure,” I said. “If your friend wouldn’t mind, I’ll have a beer.”

Charlotte took all of the snacks out of my hand, hurried over to the couch and began opening packages. She looked up at me long enough to say, “Help yourself. The refrigerator is in there. Get me one too, please” She pointed to a doorway that I assumed led to the kitchen.

Shaking my head and laughing, I retrieved a bottle of Heineken for each of us, found an opener and took them out to join Charlotte. I opened one of the bottles for her and set it on the coffee table in front of her. Her mouth was full of potato chips as she washed them down with a long pull on the bottle. I took a seat on a chair to the right of her and opened the other beer.

Through tendrils of incense smoke rising from two burners on the coffee table, I watched Charlotte as she eventually satisfied her appetite enough to take a pause in her snack consumption and finally speak.

“You must think I’m a pig or something,” she said.

I laughed and pointed to the extremely small remnants of three smoked joints, “Been there, done that.”

“You want to smoke some weed with me?” she asked.

“Not if you want to have this talk with me that you keep mentioning,” I said.

“Oh yeah, right,” she said, taking another drink of her beer.

“Are you ready to explain what you need?” I asked.

Charlotte fiddled with her wheat blonde hair for several seconds before pushing it behind her ears on both sides. She slid her legs underneath her, squaring her back and preparing for what she wanted to say.

“I’m confused,” she started.

“You mentioned that,” I said. “What are you confused about, exactly?”

“Sex,” She said, barely above a whisper. She was studying her hands as they laid in her lap.

“Isn’t sex something that you should be discussing with your parents instead of some guy that you barely know?”

“My mom can’t help me,” Charlotte said. “She would just tell me to do whatever felt right for me at the time.”

“That’s not totally bad advice,” I told her, “but it can sometimes be hard for a young person to understand their feelings for what they really are. Love and lust can easily get confused for one another.”

“I knew you would understand,” Charlotte said with a hint of pride in her voice.

“You knew that I would understand what?” I asked.

“I think I like girls,” Charlotte said, once more studying her hands intently.

“Are you concerned about whether or not you are a lesbian?” I asked.

Charlotte just nodded.

“I’m not sure that I am the best person to advise you...” I began.

Charlotte looked into my eyes and said, “If I asked for advice from a woman who is straight, she won’t understand my confusion. If I asked for advice from a straight guy, his advice will be biassed towards his own preferences. The same if I ask for advice from a lesbian woman; she’ll be biased in her own way. By asking for your advice, you wouldn’t have a bias. Plus, you would understand being different.”

“Wait a second,” I said. “Do you still think that I am gay?”

“Of course,” she said. “I explained all that to you yesterday when we met.”

“Charlotte, I am not gay. I wear a Speedo when swimming because I used to swim competitively and that is what we wear. It cuts down on the resistance in the water.”

She got a puzzled expression on her face and said, “You also didn’t want to take my picture.”

I shook my head in disbelief. This girl really was a ‘babe in the woods’ sometimes. I said, “I won’t disrespect your beauty by taking a bad picture of you. If it’s that important to you, I have a real camera in my room that I will use to take a quality picture of you some time.”

“If you think I’m beautiful, why haven’t you made a move on me? I had to practically beg you just to talk to me tonight.”

I smiled and tried to explain, “It’s a matter of respect, Charlotte. I do think you are very beautiful, but that’s no reason for me to assume that you would welcome any advances made by me. A person should respect another person’s right to set limits. I don’t know what your limits might be, so I respect you enough not to test them. Then there’s the fact that I am twice your age, barely know you and have a great deal more experience in life than you do. I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you, even if it was unintentional.”

Charlotte sat silently, looking at me with what looked like a new interest. I decided to move the conversation along.

“Have you experienced relationships with both boys and girls?” I asked.

She nodded but remained silent.

“Would you feel comfortable describing these experiences to me so I can try to understand your confusion?”

Once more, her hands became her focus as she said, “I’ve only been with two boys and two girls. The sex with the girls satisfied me more, I guess. I think that’s what has me confused. Sometimes, when I see a good-looking guy, my body reacts as it does with a girl, but the reaction with a girl never happens until we’re actually doing stuff. My body doesn’t react the same way just by looking at a girl as it does when I look at a boy. Does that make sense?”

“It does,” I said. “You have never experienced an orgasm while having sex with a boy, but you have with a girl. Is that right?”

She nodded.

“Charlotte, that’s probably not that uncommon for someone your age,” I explained. “Hell, I was a teenage boy once, with all the selfish desires and lack of patience that went along with it. The guys you were with probably spent little time on foreplay and were done with you as soon as they had cum. Am I close?”

“You’re spot-on,” she said.

“While the girls were very focused on bringing you pleasure and passion, right?”

“I guess so,” she said.

“I’m no expert, Charlotte, but it sounds to me that you don’t have a true sexual orientation dilemma. You said it yourself, boys cause a reaction that girls don’t, but so far, girls have satisfied you more than boys. I think you just need to get more experience under your belt, probably with both. Let me ask you this, thinking back on the girls that you have been with, rate what you would consider their sexual experience has been on a scale of one to five.”

Charlotte thought for a few seconds before answering, “The first girl was my age, but she certainly knew what she was doing when she basically seduced me. I would say that she would rate at three and a half. The second girl was more my choice, but she wasn’t a stranger to girl-on-girl action. I would rate her a strong four.”

“Good,” I said. “Now do the same with the boys. Rate their experience on a scale of one to five.”

There was no hesitation when she said, “Both of them would barely rate a two, and I rate them that high because they knew that ‘tab A goes into slot B’, but that was about the limit of their knowledge, in my opinion. Neither even knew how to kiss very well.”

“Any conclusions?” I asked.

She was nodding vigorously when she answered, “I need to try having sex with a guy who knows what he’s doing, but more than that, I need to find a guy who will be patient with me and teach me what I don’t know. That’s what both of the girls did for me and is probably why I enjoyed those experiences so much more.”

“Excellent,” I said. “It looks like my work here is done. Just be patient, Charlotte, and don’t rush things. You have your entire life ahead of you. Do what feels right like your mom said, but be confident of your feelings before going too far down any road. They’re your feelings, and they count. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I think so,” she said. “Can we talk some more tomorrow? I think I’ll have some more questions after I sleep on what you’ve said.”

“I think we can probably find time to meet up again. Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“Just the lunch gig,” she said. “I’ll be off by two.”

“I think I’ll be tied up a bit longer than that,” I said. “Let me throw an idea out to you so you can tell me what you think, and Charlotte, this isn’t a move that I’m making on you...”

“What?” she asked.

“If you want to hang out at the pool tomorrow after your shift, bring your bathing suit to work with you. I’ll find you at lunch and give you a spare key to my room. You can relax, sunbathe, take a nap or whatever else you want to do until I’m free. Then I’ll order a pizza to be delivered to my room. I would take you out to dinner, but our conversation might not be appropriate for a public place.”

Charlotte stood and approached me in the chair. She pushed the leg that I had crossed over the other off, and then sat on my lap, put her arms around me and snuggled her head against my neck. I could smell her scent, which I assumed was just her shampoo. I couldn’t sit forward to set the beer bottle down, so I put my free arm around her and hugged her.

“I knew that you would be good for me, Greg, even if you’re not gay,” Charlotte laughed into my neck.

The feeling of her lips moving against my skin was incidental contact, but my body didn’t perceive it that way. I was immediately in an uncomfortable predicament with my growing erection crushed under the weight of her body. I had recognized earlier that Charlotte wasn’t wearing a bra under her tank-top, but the significance of that then, versus now was also becoming obvious to me as I felt her young, hard nipples pressing against my body.