Discover “Rio”, the first erotic story recorded as an audio podcast by Blindher, and written by erotic writer Léa @celle.qui.aimer.

Listen to or read to unwind, relax and give yourself a little excitement, with our brand new crackling massage foam with an indecent scent, a creamy and refreshing foam for massages with a unique sensoriality.

Happy listening and reading!



“It had to fall on me.”

“It had to fall on me.”

It had to fall on me. Everyone collects their belongings and leaves with a smile on their faces, happy to have finished with these twelve hours of flight. I'm the only one who doesn't feel this relief. I wait another five minutes and if my suitcase doesn't appear on that damn conveyor belt, it's lost. I've been standing there for half an hour.

Finally, I resign myself to going to my company counter to report the disappearance of my suitcase. What followed was a long wait, phone calls, words intended to be reassuring which did not reassure me. And hearing myself say after a while that my suitcase is in Hong Kong while I am in Rio de Janeiro. It really had to fall on me.

The next moment, I'm in the taxi to the hotel with my only carry-on bag: my work bag. Inside, my computer, fabric samples and all the models from the new swimsuit collection that I have to present tomorrow. That's the most important thing, that's why I'm here. I absolutely must not miss this meeting. If it works, my creations will be on sale everywhere in Brazil. Jackpot!

But I'm starting to panic: how am I going to dress? I'm sweaty, my clothes are dirty, I don't have anything to put on makeup... It's off to a really bad start.

Fortunately, when I arrive near the hotel, I realize that I am right in the city center, I will only have to buy a dress and some makeup in the morning. Nothing is serious, it will be fine.

When I get out of the taxi, the heat overcomes me. It acts on me like a heavy weight, pinning me to the ground. Each gesture requires considerable energy. I enter the hotel, it is 9 p.m. I ring the little bell at reception, no one. I feel my clothes sticking to my skin. I'm sweaty, and this heat almost makes my head spin. I want freshness and to release pressure. The hotel bar looks open, I walk up to the waiter and ask him in English if he can call the receptionist and pour me a cold drink.

“I feel filled with desire, with desire.”

“I feel filled with desire, with desire.”

A man sipping rum at the bar approaches me:

- You are French ?

He is brown, with curly hair and tanned skin. He wears a half-open white linen shirt and light pants. He looks at me with great gentleness and a smile that could easily make me capsize.

- I answer, a little surprised: yes, how do you know?

- I lived in France for fifteen years, I would recognize your accent among a thousand.

I take the glass of water filled with ice cubes and I down it, dead. The feeling of cold disperses in my mouth, in my throat, throughout my ribcage. Without being able to control it, I emit a little moan of pleasure. Still a little feverish, I stare into the Brazilian's, I can't get rid of it. I am completely paralyzed, electrified by him.

The waiter brings me back to reality by telling me that the receptionist has arrived. I turn on my heels in the direction of reception without even turning around, I have to stay focused. But my mind wanders, I don't know if it's the room temperature, but I'm feeling a little cottony, I even think I'm a little excited. And this Brazilian comes to invade my thoughts…

Once in my room, I open my computer and try to reread my presentation. But I can not. I definitely can't concentrate. My mind wanders: what if the Brazilian knocked on my door now and told me in Portuguese all the desire I inspire in him… I caress my chest… hesitate…. In the midst of a struggle with myself, I resist and get back to work. I get up and practice saying my text, gesticulating as if I were really in front of the leaders. The more I repeat, the more stressed I am. I'm starting to sweat, I'm hot. I feel like the temperature is rising again. I take a cool shower to calm down and clear my head. While soaping myself, I get lost again, I linger on my breasts, my penis, I don't know what has happened to me since I arrived here, I feel filled with desire, with desire . I soap my body tenderly, I take advantage of the cold, I pass the jet of the shower head over myself. I slide it down between my legs and I shiver with pleasure every time the water massages my clitoris. I pull myself together, once again, I get out of the shower ready to get back to work. I dry off but after a few minutes I'm sweaty again. I'm suffocating. No need to open the window, it's worse outside. I take a chair and climb on it to check the air conditioning ventilation, no cold air comes out. I fiddle with the settings and end up making a mess. I press all the buttons and I start to get angry. “The air conditioning is broken, it’s not true.”

I call the hotel reception, no answer. I decide to go down. I still have nothing to wear. Out of the question of wearing a thick bathrobe, I put on one of my swimsuits and go downstairs to get help, half-naked. When we get downstairs, there is no one there, even the waiter has disappeared. The Brazilian is still leaning on the bar and his beauty almost makes me forget why I am there. He asks me if everything is okay. I tell him a little annoyed that I no longer have air conditioning in my room and that the heat is unbearable. He tells me that the whole hotel has a problem and that a technician is working.

- How long do you think it will take?

Two or three hours, according to him. That's all it takes, the prospect of staying another two hours in this furnace makes me waver, my legs begin to tremble, panic overcomes me, I feel myself falling. When I come to my senses, I am in the arms of the handsome Brazilian. I'm in a swimsuit, almost naked, I feel his skin on me, his hands gripping me firmly. I want him almost instantly. He helps me to stand up and invites me to follow him, he takes me to his room. Carefully helps me sit up and takes a small damp towel from the spare fridge. He invites me to lie down.

“I want him to dare to go even further.”

“I want him to dare to go even further.”

I feel my body temperature drop and relaxation replaces anxiety. I close my eyes and analyze the situation: three hours ago I landed, suitcase lost and angry, and here I am lying in the room of the sexiest man in Brazil. I smile. He then approaches me and whispers phrases to help me let go and relax. I am letting myself go. His smooth voice excites me. The temperature is rising. He offers to massage me. I don't hesitate for a second, I let myself be tempted. I really want a connection...

I turn around, lie down on my stomach, he runs his hands over my back, I feel like an electric shock. He keeps on. The next moment, I hear him grab some product from the bedside table, put some in his hands and apply it to the back of my body. He spreads it on my back with the flat of his palm. It's a foamy, light, airy texture, which gives me an impression of intense freshness. And I feel it crackle on my skin , this accentuates our electrical contact . I sigh with relief, this mixture of sensations is so good . He runs down my back, unrolling his hands from bottom to top. He kneads my shoulders and spreads his caress over my arms. I groaned at his address. The smell of amber and leather that emerges makes me drift into thoughts that are as exotic as they are indecent . I can't resist anything, I squirm with pleasure and he continues his massage on my legs, taking care to go back up to my buttocks. He rolls his thumbs, he dances his fingers to the crackle of this magical foam . I want him to dare to go even further. The freshness of the foam contrasts with the fire growing between my legs. He takes off his white shirt and lies on top of me, massaging me with his chest. While rubbing, I discover that he has a hard-on. I sigh with envy and move my ass to approve of his actions. Even through our clothes I feel his hard penis sliding against me, I would like so much to hold it, to welcome it. Slowly, I pull on the strings of my swimsuit, I lift myself up a little and take it off, there I am naked, the message is clear. He continues to massage me, he kisses my back, my neck. I can't take it anymore, I turn around, I look at his hazel eyes and I ask him his name. His name is Fabrizio.

- Make love to me, Fabrizio.

Without saying a word, he then takes off his pants and joins me. I feel his warm skin against me.

The alarm rings, I open my eyes, the air conditioning is working. It's morning, I'm in my room, calm and peaceful. I call room service, I order breakfast. And in my head only one question resonates: Fabrizio, did I dream it?