An adult stories – The Girl from Brazil by FluffMeatsStory,FluffMeatsStory No, not that Brazil, but the city in Indiana
[Author’s note: all conversations are presented as English so I don’t have to deal with translation issues. Assume the native language is spoken where appropriate.]
Back in grade school, my grandmother encouraged me to have a pen pal. She even had the name of someone back in the old country. The kid’s name was Peggy, and she was my age. But the old country wasn’t in Europe, it was Brazil. I could already speak some Portuguese, because my grandparents’ English was poor. My name is Jenny, but everyone called me ‘Junebug’, since I tried to catch them every summer.
As the years went by, my mother tried to get me into ballet, and I went along, but more because I wanted to please her. I thought the tutu was ridiculous, but I wore it because it was expected. I secretly wanted to dance something more dramatic and wild, and ballet was just too stylized and boring. Also, my long black hair always had to be secured when I was in costume. Somewhere during this time, people had shortened my nickname from ‘Junebug’ to ‘June’.
The town had a lot of immigrants from Brazil. Some came here because they thought it was settled by ex-Brazilians. The surprise was on them. The town was named after a local farm that took the name because the news was full of stories about Brazil at that time. Yet over time, because some stayed, we grew the neighborhood of Little Brazil.
In high school, things got more interesting. You see, I met someone from Little Brazil in one of my classes, and learned we actually had some Brazilian culture in town. In checking it out, I learned they had a little carnival celebration every year, three restaurants, and a dance studio that taught samba. I pestered mom to transfer me from ballet to samba. I even once watched a session at the studio, and thought it looked like so much more fun to do.
My junior year, I entered vo-tech to become a mechanic, as repairing farm machinery was a well-paying part-time job. Being a girl was uncommon, but there was enough need in town, that I was welcomed. I started work on the weekends, doing the boring stuff like anyone learning, but my boss found I had an eye for detail, and the finesse for careful adjustment. I didn’t have the muscle for some of the major repairs, but a tune-up was right up my alley. And the local farmers knew that keeping their machinery tuned up was a good way to keep them working longer.
Later in the school year, puberty hit. My emotions went everywhere, and I became rebellious.
My senior year, I finally enrolled in a class at the studio in Little Brazil, and so began to learn the samba. I think becoming top heavy, might have been the final straw for ballet. When I wrote to my pen pal to inform her of my new classes, she told me her family ran their own dance studio, and she would be working there soon enough. I asked if she could send pictures, and if I might someday visit. She sent some, and boy, was I surprised. It seemed they wore almost nothing, compared to here, where, I thought, showing off my belly button was provocative. Right then, I decided I would go there, and learn how it was really done. But first, I had to graduate, save money, and get a passport.
After I graduated, I worked full-time at the shop, but my boss knew that I would be heading out when I could afford a trip to Brazil. By this time, I had upgraded from letters to my pen-pal, to email and video chat. We spoke at least once a week, she in English, and I spoke Portuguese. We wrote short emails several times each week. We made so many mistakes, but that, in turn, made us better at the other’s language.
As I saved money, I let Peggy know how I was faring. She said I could stay with her family. I wanted to have enough for everything, including airfare, traveler’s insurance, class fees, and money for emergencies. It seemed to take forever, but I finally hit my mark when I was nineteen. If I had to pay rent as well, it might have taken another year or two, to save enough.
As I neared my mark, I got a passport, and the folks gifted me a suitcase of my own. I also had a laptop, a camera, and other tech toys, as I also used them for work. Finally, the day came for me to leave. My folks dropped me off at the local airport, where I headed to Miami, before getting on a plane to Rio de Janeiro. There, I met Peggy, and her older brother, Sam. He chauffeured, and handled my suitcase and backpack. We had already met by video, so we recognized each other.
I wound up sharing a room with Peggy, under the theory we were already friends, and so could help each other with any language and cultural issues. One of the biggest adjustments I had to make, was to the tropical climate. While they had air conditioning, they didn’t use it, unless it got really hot. I was not prepared for that, so Peggy suggested I stop wearing my underwear, and sleep in the nude like her. I would be cooler, but more exposed than I was used to. Looking at the other women in the area, I realized the only ones that wore bras were women with very large breasts, and I did not see any panty lines. With only a ‘C’ cup, I was top heavy, but not so much that I required a bra all of the time. After a few days, the lack of underwear stopped bothering me.
The next session for dance classes wasn’t for a month. They let me watch and practice, but didn’t give me much attention. I, in turn, trying to be a nice guest, did my best to not make waves, and watched more than practiced. When I did practice, I focused on doing the moves slowly, so I could perfect them. For much of my time in class, I tried to pick up more Portuguese, as locally spoken. I did that all day, actually, but the class was where I focused the most on the dialect.
Peggy suggested I join in the Carnival festivities, since I would be able to join in the dance as a member of the school. Technically, the schools were more like neighborhood clubs, but some, actually, did teach dancing, and that was what I was waiting for. Peggy also suggested I make a costume. I would have to work quickly on it, since the school’s theme was already decided. To help pay for stuff, I made off-the-books cash doing mechanical work on cars and such. By the time I started classes, I had assembled a small toolbox and tools for doing tuneups.
I was leaning over the engine of the family car, when I first realized I had been flashing Sam, who stood behind me. I had forgotten that I wasn’t wearing any panties under my short skirt. As he had been there for over half an hour, and done nothing to bring it to my attention, I figured I could pretend I didn’t know. That night, I spoke with Peggy.
“Peggy, something odd happened today.”
“What happened?”
“I was working on the car, while Sam watched, and talked with me.”
“So? You’ve done that before.”
“Yeah. But today, I realized that when I leaned over the engine, that Sam was looking up my skirt.”
“Hey, he’s a guy. If opportunity occurs, any guy’ll look.”
“True. But I had nothing on underneath. I think he may have seen my slit.”
“Oh, he saw it.”
“You seem positive about that.”
“I am. I’ve seen it also, when you work on the car. I think that’s half the reason he spends time talking with you, while you work on the car.”
“Oh.” I had to stop and think about that. I’d been here only a few weeks, and already I forgot about not wearing underwear. So much so, that I was uninhibited with Sam, and let him see me.
“Don’t sweat it, June. He’s walked in on me getting out of the shower a time or two, when I forgot to lock the door. I’ve done the same and seen him. It happens, so don’t worry about it. On the other hand, I have a friend, Dawn, who never locks the door when she bathes. Likewise, she likes to get caught. But even that is kinda tame. This is Rio. Most of the beaches are topless, and some are clothing optional. And a few have out-of-the-way places, where people routinely have sex on the beach.”
“Really? I didn’t see anyone topless last weekend.”
“That’s because I wanted to take it easy on your American sensibilities. We went to a prudish beach. In Brazil, the female form is worshiped. This weekend, we can go to a beach more to my liking, and you can go topless if you want.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Then you can see how little you need to worry about it.”
“Well… don’t expect me to go topless.”
“We’ll make a real Brazilian of you yet.”
That weekend, I saw breasts everywhere. Some of the women should have covered up, they were so ragged. But Peggy told me, it wasn’t about beauty, but about enjoying the freedom under the sun. Somehow, she talked me into removing my top about an hour before we left. I was so worried, and looking for anyone who was staring at me, yet no one gave me more than a brief look. Peggy said it was my tan lines they were looking at.
I looked at my breasts, and saw I had large, white, untanned triangles, compared to her having no white on her breasts. Now, I had something else to be embarrassed about. Peggy said the white would go away if I allowed it to. I knew she meant that I should go topless more often. I had to think about that a lot. By the next weekend’s trip to the beach, I had convinced myself to try.
Nearing the time for classes, Peggy and I had shopped for new clothes to make me look more local, and to have suitable clothes for the classes. When classes opened, I went in one of my new outfits, and did my best to do as the dance teacher said.
Surprisingly, I took to their teaching. I think all those ballet lessons paid off. Not in the moves, but in the discipline, and retention of what I was taught. The biggest difference was that ballet was focused on showing grace as you move, while samba was about showing sex appeal. I had to learn to use my assets, by shaking my breasts and wiggling my butt. As I had been watching others for nearly a month, the moves came quickly. So quickly, in fact, that I was switched to the intermediate classes about a month in.
Each session lasted four months, and I continued to learn my lessons quickly. Some were concerned that I was entering the intermediate class partway along, but my talent soothed their fears. In the meantime, not only did my breasts get fully tanned, my remaining tan lines shrank to a thong’s tan lines. I even got used to guys checking my breasts out, especially when I joined in a beach volleyball game. My breasts bounced all over as I played. We even went to the nude beach a few times, and once I even took my thong off for a few hours. Peggy was proud of me. I decided to modify my Carnival costume to show more skin, and to be topless. That meant I had to add more feathers, sequins, and rhinestones.
Back home, I managed to walk in on Sam, as he left the shower. The odd thing was that he didn’t cover up, but instead, chose to chat a bit, as he dried off. He took his time drying off his cock, and I watched his dick grow. After that, I decided to wear shorter skirts when I worked on the car. Then, he could see my slit better when I leaned over.
I started the next intermediate classes after the break was over. Not only did I take those classes, but I was invited into a Carnival class. Peggy told me it was an honor, and meant that I might dance on the float for Carnival. She was already selected, as she taught at the school. It was all about showing off the school, and various people would do the various things the school taught. While I only knew maybe half the dances, apparently, I was really good at their signature dance. I couldn’t believe they wanted me to be on the float as one of the dancers.
I was so excited, I didn’t even care that all I would have on is a tiny thong, feathers, sequins, rhinestones, and glitter. I would be seen by everyone, and the school would be filming and photographing the parade. I would be on their website in all my glory. So, I buckled down and learned my dances, and my part. I did get some breaks, at times, because they occasionally needed my mechanical ability on one float or another. That let me relax from dancing a while, and do something else that contributed to the school.
As the weeks went by, I made another change to my costume, replacing the rhinestone thong with a feather loincloth, using a rhinestone belt with hanging feathers. I also practiced the other dances, that we would perform on the float. This was to allow us to fill in for each other. Everyone was impressed with how quickly I picked up the dances. One day, at dinner, the topic came up.
Sam said, “Hey, June. How come you dance so well? I thought you were here to learn; yet, it seems like you almost already know the dances.”
“Who knows. I just know that samba is fun, and I love doing it. All that sexual teasing, and provocative displays, and everyone expecting it. It just feels so wonderful. I think that means I make a big effort to learn it perfectly.”
Peggy said, “Well, from what I’ve heard, you are not far off.”
“Really? I’m that good?”
“Yes, you are. I’ve heard some teachers talk about it.”
That’s when their mother, Rosa, spoke. “Your pen pal is descended from good stock. I barely knew her grandmother Terri, but what I heard of her was that she was a prize-winning dancer. She left because she was rumored to have had an affair with someone from Bangalore. I suspect the rumor is true, June, as you have long hair like the Indians, and not the shorter hair you see on most Brazilians. In the United States of America, no one would care, so they emigrated.”
“I had wondered how she knew your family.”
“I knew of her, because I took over the mailing list for her old school. That school is gone, but the list lives on, but changed into a social group. I still read it, but others run it. I was surprised when she asked me about Peggy, but I’m glad I said it would be okay to make her a pen pal for her granddaughter.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Peggy said, “Wow. You inherited your talent from her. I’ll have to tell the teachers.”
“Don’t.”
“Why not, mom?”
“Some don’t like to be reminded about her rumored infidelity. Others don’t want to know. Best let that dog lie, and keep the peace. They see her talent, and are using it to benefit the school.”
“I see, mom. June, sorry I can’t tell them.”
“That’s okay. I want to make it on my own, not on someone else’s coattails.”
Later, with only two weeks to go, I was spending most of my day at the school’s warehouse. Either I was helping out with the float, or I was practicing assorted dances, or finishing my costume. The latter consisted of a feather loincloth, feather bands for wrists and ankles, a necklace, and a hat. The bands were wide, covering most of the forearm or lower leg, and had feathers and rhinestones all over. Peggy taught me how to make them, and Rosa helped design them. The hat was light, so my neck would not get tired. It actually hooked around my ears, so it was solid on my head. I could turn it quickly, and it would turn with me. It had a great big rhinestone front-piece, and lots of long feathers all over. The longest were about three feet.
My necklace looked like solid diamonds and pearls. It was actually rhinestones and fake pearls, but it had a huge rhinestone that dangled between my breasts. I don’t know how Rosa found it, but it looked like a ruby, and was the exact same color as my nipples. I already had a selfie with me wearing the necklace on bare breasts. I looked hot. I was looking forward to dancing on the float and letting everyone stare at my breasts.
Our day for the parade arrived. I arrived with Peggy, and we split up. I went to get my costume on, with all the finishing touches I didn’t prepare, beginning with glitter. One of the gals called out, “Hey June! You’re up.”
I headed over to the side, where they had some curtains giving some privacy. “I’m ready. What do I do?”
“Strip, and pile your clothes over there. We’ll keep them safe. Put your costume on that far table.”
So I got undressed, and after I was nude, she said, “Nice! No tan lines, and no bush. Let me get your hair.”
Another quickly came in and took my clothes, saying, “I’ll put these with Peggy’s.”
Soon, I found myself wearing tiny goggles and a hair cap, and I said, “I’m ready.”
“Great. Take a deep breath, then nod as you hold it. I’ll spray your head first.”
So I took a deep breath, and nodded. Momentarily, the first spray began. I could feel my face quickly get covered, then my neck, and then it moved down further.
“You can breathe now.”
I let out my breath, and waited and turned, as she sprayed my entire body with the mild glue. When she finished, she said, “Now to check I didn’t miss a spot.” Two minutes later, she said, “Got everything. Now for the glitter.” She then switched sprays, and said, “Breathe in and hold.”
I took a deep breath, held it, and nodded. As soon as I nodded, the spray started. Five minutes later, she said, “Done. Now, we wait for it to dry. Go over to the next booth, and get your hair done.”
I walked into the next curtained-off area, and saw two women on a scaffold, with a shelf behind them, and portable work lights. There was a third woman there, and she was sitting on the rug with a bunch of nail polish. She would be doing my nails, as the other ladies did my hair. Soon, I would be ready to debut on the float.
One of the upper ladies said, “While you dry, you cannot sit, so we have to be up high to do your hair. Step over to the ‘X’ on the floor, and we’ll do your hair.”
They did my hair up nice, and by the time they finished, I was dry, and they assisted me in getting my necklace and headdress on. Just as they finished, and said it was perfect, there was a loud bang from where the float was. While I wondered what had happened, someone yelled, “JUNE!”
Without thinking, I said, “Shit! The float.” I then ran out to our float.
I yelled, “Where’s the problem?”
Soon I was directed to where one of the animatronic devices had exploded. I quickly looked at it, but took my time working on it, since I just had my nails done. I wound up replacing part of the unit with a spare, but that ate up any free time I had. As I finished, and someone else put the tools away, I checked my nails and saw they weren’t damaged.
Some guy came to me, and said, “Here’s your costume.”
I was instantly embarrassed, knowing I was nude except for the glitter and headdress. He helped me put it on, and no sooner, someone was yelling for us to take our places. I was still adjusting my costume, as I rushed to my place. Then the warehouse door opened, and we moved. I walked next to the third float. We had six this year. We arrived at the staging area two hours before we were scheduled to start. We used the time to get used to dancing on the float while it moved in a small loop. Half an hour later, we settled in to wait. I sat down on the float, but was too excited to stay seated. I must have stood or sat every few minutes. One of the other dancers called me a yo-yo, because I was up and down so much.
Finally, our first float moved. That meant there were only a few minutes until it was our turn. It was almost ten at night. Everyone got excited at being in the parade, and the school’s master was cheering us on, and telling us to show the world what this school could do. I could see at least a hundred of our dancers from where I was. I knew there were several hundred showing off our school. I was quite excited, and when the float moved, I joined in the yell from our group. Our music was playing, and I knew our people were dancing to it.
Part of the judgment of the floats was the endurance of the dancers. We wouldn’t pass by the judges for nearly an hour. We had just entered between the stands when I felt something off about my loincloth. Looking down, I realized the central front feather was broken off, and if you looked carefully, you could see my slit. I paused, wondering what I should do. Then I remembered something my own grandma once said. “In showbiz, once the show starts, no matter what else happens, you finish the show, pretending everything is as it should be, even when it isn’t. Never let the audience know there was a mistake.”
That decided it for me. I would go out as if I wasn’t aware of it. I was a little nervous, but tried to hide it, and wanted to forget it in the dance. I succeeded, and soon forgot. I was so focused on the dance, that I didn’t notice we reached the judges stand until the float paused to show us off. The dancers right behind us split and went past us, as we began our special dance.
Someone yelled, “This is it! Time to show ’em what we can do!”
The music changed, and our set music was on. I focused on what we had practiced and practiced for weeks, and lost myself in the dance. I worked up a lot of sweat, and I was worried the glitter would slide off, but apparently the adhesive was sweat resistant, and the glitter remained where it should. Finally, the song ended, and the float moved again, and we passed the judges. Then it was back to the transition music.
The parade took about seventy minutes, all told, before we were all in the receiving area. A rented bus took most of us back to the warehouse, where we would shower and dress. Peggy and I, instead, helped the float’s driver get it back to the warehouse. We would call out clearances on the side and corners, as we slowly navigated to the warehouse. That’s when I found out why I lost a feather. The loincloth didn’t work right when sitting. I lost two more feathers before we arrived, leaving an obvious opening between my legs. When we got there, nearly everyone else had left. Only a few, who helped park the float, remained. We ate and drank the leftovers from the spread set for the school. They did save us a few bottles of wine. Peggy and I shared one.
We were getting tired, and it was time to go home, so Peggy texted Sam to pick us up. We collected our clothes, and waited. Once home, we dumped our clothes by the door, and then posed for everyone so they could take pictures. I noticed Sam got hard, and felt pleased he thought I was sexy. Then some samba music played, and we looked at each other and began to dance. More pictures and videos were taken.
Finally, we headed off to bed. Collecting our clothes, we went to our room. I looked into the mirror to see what I looked like. That’s when I saw my entire slit showed, and I had just danced in front of the family. Strangely, that turned me on. Then I stripped. Peggy was nude before I was.
Peggy said, “We need to shower and get all this glitter off.”
“Yes. Who goes first?”
“We go together. Getting the glitter off our backs is hard, and it is best done by someone else.”
“Okay.” I then headed to the bathroom, not bothering to cover up. A moment later, Peggy followed.
“Feeling sexy, huh?”
“Samba, baby!” I then danced down the hall.
We entered, and soon got down to getting cleaned. The wine must have been strong, because we both got frisky in washing each other. Strangely, it felt good. We must have been in there half an hour before we finished. As there were only two towels in the room, we decided to wrap them around our hair after drying off. I had to pee, so I sent Peggy out.
When I came out later, Sam was about to enter his room. He noticed me, and I realized I liked him looking at my nude body. So I changed my mind, and instead of joining Peggy, I walked to Sam.
“Hey, Sam. See the parade?”
He looked me up and down, obviously checking me out. “Yeah. You were hot. And when you danced for us just now, you were even hotter.”
“Yeah, I noticed you were showing.”
“Showing? Showing what?”
I reached down, and placed my hand on his pants over his crotch. Sliding my hand up and down his bulge, I said, “Showing this. Oohh. Feels nice.”
“You want to see?”
I answered by reaching down and unzipping him.
“Let’s get some privacy.” He stepped back into his room.
I followed, and when he stopped at his bed, I pushed him backwards, and undid his belt, as he kicked off his shoes. I pulled off his pants, and saw he wasn’t wearing underpants. Now, I could see him, in all his glory. I started to pull up his shirt, and he just shucked it off. He was now as naked as me.
I then climbed upon him, pulling his dick into me, then I placed his hands on my breasts.
“Oh, June, I’ve dreamed of this.” He then pushed into me, even as I pushed him in. Then he pulled away a little before pushing back in. He sat up, and placed a nipple in his mouth and started to suck.
“Ohhhh. Suck harder.”
And he did. Our pace picked up, and suddenly, he flipped us, and I was on the bottom, as he pounded into me. As my cries got shorter and higher, he was pounding harder and faster.
“OH FUCK,” was all I could say, as I came.
After I calmed down a little, he flipped me again, and re-positioned himself to take me from behind. He was still quite hard, and he was using my breasts like handles. Again, my cries became shorter and higher. But this time, what set me off was when he came.
“OH FUCK!” Not very original, but it expressed my feelings perfectly.
He pulled out, and rolled over onto the bed, I saw he was out like a light, and his dick was shrinking. I leaned over, and licked him clean, and sucked it all the way in my mouth to see what it was like. I took my time tasting it. When I finished, I stood up and turned.
Looking right at me was Peggy, naked, and standing in the doorway with big eyes. We had forgotten to close the door.
“Uh…” was all that came out of my mouth. I wasn’t sure what to say. So I just walked toward her, then slipped past and went into our room.
She followed, and closed and locked the door. As I lay on my bed, she sat next to me. “You. With my brother.”
“…Um. Yeah. I felt horny, and I saw how big his dick was, and I had to have it. Sorry.”
“I’m not sure if I should be angry at you, or jealous of you.”
“Jealous?”
“Yeah. I’ve known about his dick for years, but never thought to try it out. I don’t know if he would even let me.”
I just waited, as there was nothing I could really say. Eventually she continued.
“What’s it taste like?”
I tried to describe it, but didn’t have the words. So I said, “Well, he came in me, and I haven’t cleaned up yet. You could eat me out and taste him on me.”
“I’m no lez.”
“No, but you want to know what he tastes like. That’s how you can find out.”
Clearly, she was thinking about it, so I, still feeling horny, opened my legs wide.
“Just get between them and lean in for a taste. I don’t mind.”
She said, “I don’t know,” even as she shifted between my legs.
“It’s just an experimental taste. You’re not doing it to enjoy me, but to taste him. Now lean in.”
She leaned in, and began to lick. After a few minutes, I realized she had crossed the line, at least into curiosity about girls, so I slowly stroked her hair and said encouraging words about how nice she was to me. I also suggested things she could do with her tongue to please me, and she started doing that. I sat up, and placed a hand on her breast, and started playing with her nipple. Suddenly, she came. She backed off, and looked at me with wonder on her face.
“Why don’t we share a bed tonight and explore each other. For science. So we can see what we like and don’t like.”
Slowly, as though in a daze, she lay next to me. I pulled the sheet over our heads, and said, “No one will know, if we are quiet.” I then pulled one of her hands to my breast.
We said nothing more that night, but instead spoke with our hands. At some point, we sixty-nined, and sampled each other’s juices. We woke up facing each other, touching each other’s privates.
Peggy said, “Are we lesbians?”
“No. Just curious. But we could easily check.”
“Huh? How?”
“You remember telling me about those nude beaches that allowed public sex?”
“Yeah…”
“Somehow, I don’t think we would have to try hard to get guys, or even girls, to have sex with us.”
“You’re right. We could. Should we?”
“Why not? We’re young, and expected to try things out.”
Just then, we were interrupted by a call to breakfast. We got out of bed, and as I turned to my closet, I had a naughty thought. I then turned and headed out of the room, leaving the door wide open.
Peggy whispered loudly, “You’re naked.”
I whispered back, “Yep,” and continued on to the kitchen, dancing slightly.
When I entered, everyone stared at me, but no one said anything. I just headed to my seat, and served myself from the food on the table. The others just started to eat when Peggy walked in, also nude. Another pause, and then the eating resumed.
When the meal was over, and we took the dishes to the sink, Rosa quietly asked, “What’s with the nudity?”
I said, “Rosa, last night was over the top, I was so excited that I failed to realize my loincloth was missing a crucial feather, until it was too late to do anything about it. So I went with it, as though I had intended to. That was so empowering. There I was, flashing millions of people, and I was ecstatic. When I finally came home with Peggy, we posed for you, and it felt wonderful. This morning, I am still feeling it, and I feel wonderful letting everyone see my body.”
“Peggy?”
“I couldn’t let her do it alone. She’s my pen pal.”
“Kids. Just be careful. Not everyone is as understanding as our family.”
“Yes, mother Rosa.”
“Yes, mom.”
Sam just nodded.
We wore our costumes again, as Carnival lasted several days. I had debated fixing my loincloth, but Peggy assured me if I was confident, no one would complain, unless we went where kids were. She was my guide for all the parties we would go to, so I had no worry about that. More than once, some guy asked me into the shadows to have sex, and I wouldn’t have to adjust my costume at all. They could just slide in. With Carnival lasting several days, the local parties went all-night long. Sometimes, after midnight, guys would do me in front of everyone. A few adventurous girls would also eat me out. I did notice that I lost several more feathers, making my slit even more obvious.
Come Ash Wednesday, the party ended. We had a lot of work to do at the warehouse. We brought our costumes with us, and reported in. We spent the next several days taking apart the float and stored, recycled, or trashed everything. We also repaired our outfits, as we won third place in our league, and would be honored Saturday. I had to find more feathers, and I ensured that they worked even when sitting. At this point, I got copies of the school’s filming of our parade, and of the many photos and videos that friends and family took and contributed to the school’s community page. I even got several high-resolution snapshots of me dancing on the float with my slit barely visible.
With mother Rosa not forbidding it, I stopped getting dressed just to go between our room and the shower. I also stopped wrapping a towel about my body after, hoping to run into Sam. I did a few days later, and we, again, had sex.
There was a short break before the next set of classes started. At first, it was awkward around Peggy and Sam, but after a few days, we all got used to the fact that Sam and I were sexing each other. Several times, when I went to bed after doing him, Peggy came over to eat me out, so she could taste Sam. I also loosened up about being seen, and suggested we go to the nude beach next time, and maybe have sex with some cute guys we see. Peggy was reluctant, at first, but shortly after class started back up, we went. I learned you really could have sex at that beach. We became regulars.
This semester, I was asked to be a tutor for a woman who was a beginner. They wanted me, since I had successfully learned that particular dance. Peggy also recommended I take the work, as it would provide some additional money, and let me stay longer. I had to ask my own teachers lots of questions about how to help my student. Little did I know they were grooming me to be a teacher. Additionally, I started to hang out with some of the others, and would occasionally party with them.
Two months in, they replaced that student with a pair of students, that had issues with one dance I knew well. They were a couple, and I had to teach both the male and female parts. This often meant that I would demonstrate to one student, by dancing with the other. One day, I noticed the man seemed embarrassed about the erection he was trying to hide.
“Ricardo, you’re holding back. You need to give into the feelings, and let your body express your feelings.”
“June, I’m not your boyfriend. I don’t know if I can do what you’re saying.”
“Sure you can. Just pretend I’m your girlfriend. Let your inhibitions go.”
“I don’t know that I can do that.”
Susan, his partner, said, “Ricardo, she’s right. You need to cut loose.”
“If I do, I might touch the wrong thing.”
“Ricardo, samba is sex. Of course, you will touch me intimately. It is expected. Learn to touch what you are supposed to touch, and don’t worry about accidentally touching me in the wrong place. As long as you are trying to learn, I won’t mind. Same for you, Susan.”
Ricardo complained, “But you aren’t Susan.”
“Then pretend I am. I would say close your eyes, but that would wreck your dancing. Touch me as you would her.”
After the third time he brushed my breast and backed off, I said, “Stop. Ricardo, give me your hand.”
He did.
“You are being too upset at touching me. Feel this.” I then placed his hand on my breast in front of Susan.
He tried to pull it away, but I stopped him.
“Feel it. It is just a breast.” I waited a few seconds and added, “I am not offended by this.” I then released his hand, and a few moments passed before he jerked it away.
“Now, let’s try again, and stop worrying about what you touch.”
Susan chimed in, “It’s okay, Ricardo. She’s teaching you the moves. Do what she says.”
As expected, when we came to the point where he briefly touched my breast and pulled away, he instead touched my breast and then adjusted his hand into the correct position.
“Good. Soon, that placement will be automatic.”
Indeed, after a few times, he was able to do the move correctly, and place his hand very close, but not quite on my breast as we danced. I also encouraged Susan to bump and grind close enough to me to almost touch. That also led to a few touches, as she misjudged our distance. When they both got comfortable with me as a partner, and also reliable in their touches, I had them dance with each other.
To help defuse the embarrassment, I gave nonstop encouragement and advice throughout the moves. This got them focused more on me, than on what they were touching. After a few rounds of that, I watched more, and said less. Because they had been doing their touches on me, and had done it with each other a few times, they were able to do it while focused on each other. It was a minor awkwardness, but they continued to dance. I had them do it a number of times to get used to it.
When I felt they could handle each other adequately, I moved on to another area. The next session, I had them do this part again, to etch it into their minds, that it was okay to be intimate in this way, while doing this dance. As I watched, I was reminded of the dance variation I picked up in the clubs. There, the touch was more overt, and could lead to sex. Sometimes, even on the dance floor. A guy could pull out his dick as I danced, and then slip it up under my short skirt directly into my slit. If he were smooth enough, no one would even notice we were having sex on the dance floor. Several were smooth enough. The tops I wore at those parties were loose enough to let a nipple or two slide out for easy access.
When the semester ended, Peggy dragged me with her all over Rio. She was on a float committee, and we were shopping for stuff to put on the float. Since I tended to wear less, she usually had me do the talking. She wanted to get a sexy discount, and it certainly worked. One day, we needed to split up, and she brought two more people with us. The one I went with had moved here from New Jersey a decade ago.
So I was rather surprised when the merchant spoke to me privately, and said, “Miss June, you should tell your friend over there, to spend more time practicing our language. She has a terrible accent.”
“Do I have an accent?”
“No, you sound just like everyone else around here does. Why?”
“I was just curious.”
We finished our business, and when we got in the car to go back, I couldn’t wait to tell Peggy.
“Hey, Peggy! Guess what?”
“What, June?”
“The man we saw said Rita here had a terrible accent.”
“So? That’s not news.”
Rita said, “Hey, I’m a Jersey girl at heart.”
I added, “That’s not the point. He said I sounded the same as the locals.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. He thought I was a local.”
“Wow. You said you wanted to become a real Brazilian girl, and now, I guess you are. Let’s celebrate at the club tonight.”
The next step in my becoming a real Brazilian was getting a Brazilian accent when speaking English. Peggy and I would practice when we went to the beaches that English speakers frequented. We had fun with the tourists, especially when they tried to speak Portuguese.
The second semester, I was assigned four beginning students. These were recent immigrants to the neighborhood, and they wanted to learn samba. I explained how Carnival worked for the schools, and how the costumes were elaborate. I even showed them the beginnings of my outfit, and the drawings of the finished product. I also showed photos of last year’s outfit.
My outfit this year, had even more feathers and rhinestones, and actually covered a lot more of my skin. This allowed me to incorporate a lot of color and shiny fabrics to make it. The theme for our float was assorted birds. I was going to be the ‘mama’ bird, with a far-more-elaborate costume, and I was even going to wear shoes disguised as clawed feet. They were effectively stilts, as they raised me up nearly a foot. When I was wearing them, they were strapped to my lower leg to keep them straight, but the weight was still on my feet.
Hiding those straps were leggings that were covered with feathers. I had additional ones on my upper legs, and their feathers covered my knees, so I didn’t show skin there. They stopped high on my thigh, as though the feathers were thigh high boots. Then came the bikini bottom. Lots of rhinestones and metallic tassels. Since I would have some of the wing spine connect about my waist, I hid it with a bejeweled vest. From the front, you couldn’t see anything, and the back and sides were hidden by feathers. The headdress was the head of the bird, with an open beak, where my painted face would hide.
It was the wings, where I spent most of the time. They were articulated sleeves, with feathers making the sleeves into real-looking wings. I actually spent a week in Vegas, with some costume makers, to learn how to make them. Getting it to articulate was hard enough. Making it into a smooth flowing dance was a whole other level of difficulty. At first, I had to practice in the warehouse by myself, as my wings would hit everything. Next was learning to do it a foot off the ground.
To help with the articulation, I had added assorted motors, and a large battery pack. I hid the bulk as a backpack that enclosed the wing’s spine. This was solidly connected to me by a rhinestone-covered belt that was tight about my waist, and also similar straps around my shoulders. I could not bend my back, but I could bend at the waist and below. By the end of the second semester, the mechanical part was done, and I was able to dance in it. Now, I had to add all the feathers, shiny fabric, and other details.
By the time the third and last semester started, Sam and I came to an agreement that we were just a fling. We were still flirting, but had realized we weren’t for each other. At the school, I was assigned a small class of beginners. Most were teenagers, so I had to be careful about what I wore, and how I explained things, but I realized they treated me as a native. They even gave me the nickname ‘gata’ which means ‘cat’. When I asked them why, they said I was so graceful, and light on my feet, that I was just like a cat. I was also in charge of getting them trained enough to take part in the next Carnival.
These students were going to be my ‘chicks’ for Carnival. I not only had to teach them the three dances we would do, but also the choreography with the music and me, to illustrate a mother’s care for her chicks. Others helped these students make their simpler costumes. Several people were making the float, with lightning that would flash, glitter as rain, and a golden sun that glowed as it came out.
The costume came together faster than expected, so I mounted some cameras. I wanted one looking through each costume eye. That meant if one failed, I would have the other as backup. As I was keeping my own costume tuned up, I didn’t have any responsibility with the float. Even so, I had to spend a fair amount of time making sure the large wings worked properly.
During the last two weeks before the parade, we held rehearsals in the warehouse. First on the floor, then later on the float, and lastly with the effects. Everyone worked like champs, and we got it to work repeatedly.
On our day to parade, we performed the scene where it was raining (with glitter), and the thunder when I would call the chicks to myself, and put my wings over them, while we all danced. Then the thunder got louder, and the lightning happened. That’s when the crowd realized the glittery crooked wires over part of the float was actually the lightning effect. Each flash was synchronized with the loudest thunder.
Soon after the lightning started, I gave a call, courtesy of the prerecorded sound of a bird, and opened my wings wide. The chicks then danced and flapped to get under my wings. The glitter rain gathered on my wings, even as I still danced. Then the lightning ended, and the rain stopped. I tilted my head up, and gave a second call, then folded my wings out of the way, causing glitter to fall from my wings to the float.
Afterwards, I learned we won second place in an artistic category. More interesting was that the performance went viral. My students celebrated the trophy, and Peggy’s family gave me a little party to celebrate.
Two weeks later, I had a visitor. He came to the house, and asked to see me.
“Hello, Miss Jenny. Let me introduce myself. I am Carlos Barros, and I am a talent scout working with a cruise line. It is a pleasure to finally meet the ‘mother hen’ from the parade.”
“I’m honored. I worked hard to get that costume to work. The choreography also took a lot of time and effort, but without the others, it would never have happened.”
“Yes, yes, I understand how things work. Like you, I was born in the area, and participated in a few parades myself. Unlike you, I had no talent for it, and left it to others.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not -”
“No, you don’t need to feel sorry for me. It is long past. However, it has left me with an eye for talent, and you have talent. When I asked about you at the school, I learned they sometimes called you ‘Gata’, and they are right. Your dances were graceful, as were the ones you did last year.”
“Well, it takes a lot of time to make it look easy.”
“Time and more. The company asked me to find out if you would be interested in working on its cruise ship?”
“I’d get paid to take an extended cruise?”
“Not exactly. There would be nightly performances, and daily interaction with the guests. I expect many would like to dance with you.”
“Oh my! It sounds like a dream job. How long would it be for?”
“It would be for the summer. Come fall, the theme changes. In summer, it’s all about Brazil, and Carnival. You are from Brazil, and you just went viral. The marketing department is already drooling at the opportunity. We would also want you to wear the costume at least once each trip.”
“Did you notice that the costume used stilts? Add in the headpiece, and I might top ten feet. That won’t work in a lot of places on board.”
“I thought it was smaller. The video said there were children with you.”
“They are children, but in their late teens. Plus, their costumes were made smallish, so they could get under my wings.”
“Oh, that could put a damper on things.”
“If you have an open-air performance space, perhaps on deck, I could perform there. I might be able to alter another costume to look like what I have, and put the big one on display. Either way, I’ll need to pick up more costumes, as I only have the two, and the other is not for children.”
“Yeah, but that can be fixed with a bikini top.”
“Or not fixed, if it is an adults-only cruise. I could then flirt with everyone, and they would enjoy looking at my minimal costume.”
“It wouldn’t bother you for your breasts to be seen?”
“I regularly have sex on a local nude beach. I’m not bothered, but I am bi.” I smiled at him.
“Oh!”
While he was digesting that, I stood, and took off my top and skirt, leaving me nude. I then walked up to him and said, “See? It doesn’t bother me. As you see, I have no tan lines, and I intend to keep it that way if I can.”
Just then, Peggy came in, and said, “You’ve been talking a while, so I thought you’d like something to drink. I’ll just leave the pitcher and glasses for you. Call if you need anything else.” Then she left.
“That… was unexpected.”
I poured myself a glass, and sat back down. After taking a long drink, I put the glass down on the coaster. “This household doesn’t mind nudity. If you were to have sex with me, out here, they would tell me to go to my room. Not as punishment, but they would mean to take you there, as well.”
“I guess nudity would not be a problem for you.”
“Correct. While the official Carnival rules don’t permit nudity, they do allow being topless, and having next to nothing below. On board, however, it is whatever the ship allows. As you can see, I keep my bush small and trim, in case people might be looking at it, as you are.”
He was startled, looked up, and blushed. I just added, “I’m not bothered, and you are free to look. Touching me intimately, however, requires permission.”
“One more thing, English. How well do you speak it?”
Switching to my Brazilian accented English, I continued the conversation. He accepted that I could speak it well enough. We got down to the details, schedule, pay, time off, and everything. I didn’t bother to dress, until after I saw him to the door. I did open my legs a bit when we were discussing my pay. I think it helped. We would meet at his office in the port administration building the next day to sign the contract. He told me to bring my passport, as it would be needed on the cruise, as well as for the contract.
Peggy and I discussed what kind of costumes would be good looks for me, and how easy I could get one to alter. There were plenty for sale to the tourists, but they lacked the needed quality. Additionally, I would have to do all the repairs myself, so I would need a kit for such repairs, including spare materials. So we made a shopping list, to ensure I had all I needed. We also discussed some other members of the school who were my size, so that I could ask about buying their old costumes.
I arrived at his office, wearing a thin top that you could see through and tell that I wasn’t wearing a bra. The miniskirt covered the essentials until I sat down; then, if my legs were a little apart, you could see that I lacked underwear. There were three other men in the office, and all four had their eyes glued to my chest. As I walked over, I deliberately added a little spring in my step, to make my tits bounce. When I sat, I first pulled the chair back a bit, so he could see over the desk and up my skirt. I saw his eyes get big when he noticed.
“Hello, Mr. Barros.”
“Carlos, please.”
“Carlos. I brought what you asked. Shall we get to the contract?”
“Sure.” He then handed the stack of papers over to me, and I could see it was about twenty pages long, or rather, there were three copies of a seven-page document. I read them quickly, making sure all the details matched our verbal agreement, and also to see that the form matched the blank one he gave me last night.
“Good. As we agreed. Where do I sign?”
He pointed out where I had to sign, and that I had to press hard, so the other two copies picked up my signature. When that was finished, he checked that all the signatures on the copies were strong, then signed his part. “Jesus, please copy and file this, will you? Thanks.”
One of the men came and took the papers, and disappeared. He came back later, and handed me a photocopy of the original. “Here you go, miss.”
When I turned to look at him, I saw his eyes were on my chest. So I just collected my copy of the contract, and said, “Thanks.”
Carlos said, “Filed?”
Jesus, without turning, said, “Yes.”
“Thanks. You can go back to your desk, now.”
Jesus shook his head a moment, realizing he had been staring, and said, “Excuse me, ma’am,” as he left, blushing.
“Very well. Next, we need the details from your passport.”
I dug into my purse, and handed it to him.
“What? This is an American passport, not a Brazilian passport.”
“Yep. I am an American.”
“But you said you were born in Brazil?”
“I was. Brazil, Indiana. Farm country near the center of North America.”
“There is a place called Brazil there?”
“Yeah. If it helps, it was named after this country.”
“Maybe. But your accent? You sound like a native.”
“I’ve worked hard to get it right. It does help me to blend into the local culture, if everyone thinks I am just a neighbor they haven’t met.”
“Does anyone know?”
“The family, where I’m staying, knows. Peggy is my pen pal from way back. The samba school knows, but tends to forget if not reminded. Not many else.”
“I’m not sure about this.”
“Why? Taxes are my problem, not yours, and I am sure you have hired other Americans.”
“We have, but we wanted a real Brazilian.”
“I am a Brazilian. Just not the Brazil you expect. As to my looks, accent, and skill, the locals think I am a local, so why should it matter?” I opened my legs a bit as I said this, and he struggled not to look.
“I guess it’s okay.”
We got the details down, then he invited me to lunch, to celebrate. While there, he asked about my accent when I spoke English, and I just told him it was expected of me from those that thought I was a local. I then spoke as an American, so he could see the difference, before switching back to Portuguese.
While we ate, a light rain came, and I just ignored it. He didn’t, because the rain plastered my top to me, and made it fully transparent. Finally, we parted, and I returned home. I had one week to collect what I needed for the trip, and I would be in training the week after, then finally, get on the boat.
Peggy was a godsend. Even Sam helped. They helped me assemble a costume fabrication and repair kit for the boat, and the supplies needed to make or repair a number of outfits. By way of the school, I got six more Carnival outfits. During the week I was in training, I got fitted for a cruise uniform, even though I would not be wearing it very much. I learned my schedule would be two big dance exhibitions a night, and I would be expected to mingle between them. I did pull a little trick to get the uniform a little larger than proper, by taking a deep breath when they were measuring. I planned to tailor it to emphasize my assets better than a regular uniform would. I felt I should wait until management told me to ‘fix’ it, so it wouldn’t be my fault.
Peggy saw me off to the ship. I had to report early, and went on after the visiting guests left. I was met by the show manager, and he gave me a quick tour of the ship, so I would know where my cabin was, where the stage I would be performing on was, and where a crew cafeteria was. That last was simple food, in a small, crowded room in crew country, with no extra pleasantries for guests. It did have portions no one took from the other restaurants on board, so there were some goodies. After we dropped off my bags in my cabin, we went to the stage to set up my mother-hen outfit for display. By the time we finished, guests were showing up. Fortunately, the mannequin was located on a raised platform in an alcove that was glassed off. However, the plexiglas only went up six feet, and so the top four feet had no plexiglas in the way.
He then showed me where his office was, and told me to shower and return in uniform in half an hour. I had to rush, and skip washing my hair, but I made it. I was assigned a mentor, and began a half-day shift. When I finished my shift of shadowing her, I went to my cabin, and with only the emergency lights, got undressed and lay down on my bed. I had to be careful, as I was assigned the lower right bunk bed.
In the morning, I woke to find out I had a roommate. I had seen the other beds, but they had not really registered. Even more interesting, was the fact a guy sat watching me from the lower left bed. You see, I was on top of the covers, nude. He was staring at me.
“Like what you see?”
He almost jumped a foot off his bed, nearly beaning himself.
“I said, you like what you see?”
He quickly looked away, but even then, I saw him peeking. “I’m not looking.”
“Given how much you are blushing, and how hard your dick is, I will take that as a yes.” I stood and walked over to him. “By the way, call me June.”
“Odd. My name is Augustine. Most people call me August.”
“You’re right. My name is actually Jenny, but everyone called me June, short for Junebug. Maybe they wanted to keep the months together.”
“Well, of month names used, most are for girls. Can you get dressed now?”
“Why?”
He looked up and stared at me, and after a second, at my breasts. After he realized where he was looking, he again looked away. “You’re naked! And I’m a guy!”
“So? I always go to the nude beach so I can get a tan without tan lines. See? That also means I don’t mind you looking.” I reached out, and lightly fingering his chin, I lifted his head back to look at me.
He seemed disturbed by this, so I added, “I really don’t mind you looking. I am also young and wild enough, that I am generally willing to have sex with anyone who is clean and polite. That includes you, unless you get rude about it. But you are right. I should probably get ready for work. Since you’ve been sitting a while, I will assume the shower is free. You can watch if you want.”
I then headed into the shower, and closed the door to keep the steam in, but didn’t lock it. I took a long shower, including shampooing my hair. When I was finished, I dried off and returned to the room with a towel about my head. That’s all I had on. I headed to the small desk we shared, and logged in to the ship system to see what I had to do today. It looked like I had the morning free, and at 1:00 PM, I was to report to the stage with one of my costumes.
So I spent the morning putting away my stuff. Having already cleared it with the company, I opened my second bag, set up my costume rack, and then filled it with my costumes. The third bag was actually the fabrication kit. The supplies were with the stage props, but the sewing kit, rhinestone tool, and other stuff was in a small, locked toolkit with my name engraved on it. I put that in the bottom drawer of my dresser.
“What are those?”
“They are my costumes. I’m a samba dancer, and they hired me because I went viral at Carnival. Did you see the large bird costume?”
“I didn’t see one.”
“Well, it’s ten feet tall, and outside the Neptune Lounge. Check it out.”
“I will.”
“Please don’t touch these. While sturdy enough, they can easily get messed up, and that can take a while to deal with. Feathers are troublesome to use, unless you understand how to handle them.”
At that point, I finally got dressed in my uniform, and picked one of the outfits to wear, and a second as backup. I placed them in a small bag I had, also with my name on them. Checking again, I headed to the crew mess to grab breakfast. I arrived, fed and refreshed, half an hour before I had to, and quickly spotted my boss.
“Hello. I can start now, or I can hang out somewhere where I won’t be seen.”
“Eager, aren’t we. Well, your partner isn’t here yet, so why don’t you wait in her dressing room. Oh, and put on your costume.”
“Top covered, or topless?”
“Before 8:00 PM, keep ’em covered. We may be adults only, but even so, some get offended. So we compromise.”
He led me to a small room, with a big, well-lit mirror, so I emptied my bag and put back the more provocative outfit.
“Two outfits?”
“I wasn’t sure which would be best.”
“Smart girl. I’ll leave you now, and she should be here soon.”
“Okay.”
I was finishing up my makeup when the door opened, and another woman stormed in.
“Move! I need the space.”
After I quickly got out of her way, she quickly changed and did her own makeup. As she changed, she apologized, and told me she was rushing because she was late. I looked at the time, and saw we were still ten minutes early. She then opened a drawer, and pulled out two bands with a barcode on them.
“Here, put this on. It’s for tips.”
I watched, and realized they acted as a wristband, or an armband if you put it that high. I had to remove one of my own wristbands to put it on without damaging the feathers.
She asked me what sambas I knew, and so I told her. She was impressed I knew so many. I told her of the school I went to, and she recognized it. She indicated she was from another school. I barely recognized it as one that occasionally visited Rio. Again, she was impressed at my awareness. Finally, she said to just do what she did, and keep the customers happy. For today, we were on roving duty, which meant we wandered the lounge, and would dance with the guests. If I showed promise, she would have me dance if there was only one guest to dance with. Suddenly, we heard a samba riff, followed by a moment of silence.
“That’s our cue.” She led the way, and almost as soon as she stepped out onto a small platform, with me a step behind, the samba music began. As it was a classic, and the dance she started was common, I followed easily, but made sure to make it graceful and erotic. We danced for three songs, with a different dance each time. After the applause, she led the way onto the floor, where we walked erotically, and mingled with the customers.
She led the conversation, and from time to time, had me dance with a man or woman. I did my best to leave them aroused. I learned to present the barcode to the guest, so they could use their phone to record who they danced with. Two hours later, she had me split off and go by myself, but she stayed near to ensure I knew what to do. After another two hours, she collared me, and said it was break time.
We went back to the change room, and I saw there was food waiting for us.
“How did they know what I wanted?”
“They don’t. The company records what you eat at the training facility, and you will get the same thing you ate there for lunch. If you have something different each day, you will get something different. If it’s the same all week, it won’t change. Or, you can do as I do, and put in your request before you start work. Eat quickly, as we need to make a bathroom break before we go back out there.”
“Won’t they see us?”
“They might, but as the room across the hall is really a crew restroom, and not a storage closet, we will have quick access.”
“Oh!” And to my surprise it was well kept. “These are nice.”
“They have to be. We sometimes bring in a guest who has had an accident, so it is best if near, and looks nice. But they get charged if they go in without crew accompanying them.”
“Huh?”
“Yep. The security cameras overhead, outside, see everything. If they see a guest without an escort, they will usually apply a charge. Don’t worry, we tell them after we bring them in.”
“I see. So many secrets.”
“Yep. But it makes it like a fantasy for the guest. We are to provide them a good time. By the way, you may be doing that a little too well.”
“Should I dial it down?”
“Heavens no! You probably got better tips than I did. But they may move you to the evening-late shift.”
Soon we were back on the floor, and so came the end of my first full day.
Given the limitations of the lounge, I was able to make another outfit by the end of the week. The last day of the week, we were arriving at Miami, our home port. I would not be performing today, but instead, I was assisting people get off the ship, and later getting people on the ship. They were short staffed, and so they drafted a number of the junior entertainment staff to help out the deckhands. As we worked a very long day, I was told to sleep in, and I would be working the afternoon-through-evening shift. When I read my email the next morning, I saw they wanted me to fix my uniform, as it was a little too big. I grinned, and thought about what I could do with it, as I ate.
I spent most of the day on deck in the mama bird outfit. I had a few places I could ‘sit’ and rest, and talk with the guests. But most really noticed when I was on a stage at the bottom of each hour dancing, and showing off the costume. The first dance got their attention. The second dance was the one that went viral, with some nearby screens showing how it looked then, synced to the music, even as I performed it. The third and last dance, I did a lot more acrobatics, to show off the costume. All told, I danced six sets on stage, before returning the costume back to the display case.
While I didn’t eat the whole time, I was allowed to drink a little. But that was so I would not need the bathroom while in costume, since it could not reasonably go inside. The drink was to keep me hydrated, but no more. Again, they didn’t want me to need a bathroom break. In return, I got to work a full day with fewer hours.
When I got to my cabin, I could hear raised voices. Not quite shouting, but it sounded like my roommate August and two women. I came in and saw them. I had to whistle to get their attention. In the silence that followed, I asked, “Who are you, and why are you in our cabin?”
The taller one said, “I’m April O’Neil, and I work for the ship’s news sheet. This is my assigned cabin, and there should not be any guys here.”
Looking at the other woman, I asked, “And you?”
“May. That is, May Betty Knott, and I’m a fitness instructor, I work at the gym.”
I looked at August, even as he looked at me, so I said, “Ladies, it is clear, someone deliberately put us in the same cabin. I go by the name June, and this, here, is August. Looks like we will have to share the room. I don’t have a problem with that.”
“But he’ll see us in our underwear!”
I casually took my clothes off, and said, “I’m going to bed now. Please talk quietly, and dim the light soon.” I then lay on the bed, naked, and closed my eyes.
I’m not sure which woman spoke next, but she said, “Aren’t you bothered by him seeing you?”
Still with my eyes closed, I replied, “I’m the new samba dancer. Samba is all about sex. I am very good at samba, because I am good at sex. Not an easy thing to do, if one gets embarrassed about being a little under-dressed.”
“A little? You’re naked!”
I added, “He stared a bit, but I don’t mind that. He didn’t bother me at all the last few nights. You’re safe enough. Goodnight.”
They continued talking, but eventually decided to go to bed, despite the mixed genders. I smiled inwardly, knowing my own nakedness let them do it. With the light out, and the near silence, I quickly fell asleep. In the morning, I had to wait on the shower, so I logged in to see my schedule. It looked to be the same as last week. Again, after showering, I came out with only a towel around my hair. The fitness instructor had already left.
Given my casual nudity in the room, the other women soon got used to his presence. But it still surprised them when they walked in on us having sex one evening. At least, I had the curtain pulled, and we were not too loud. Still, they were shocked. Afterwards, I left his bunk, and went to the restroom for a bit, then went to bed, still naked, but with a smile.
By the end of the week, I had completed two more outfits. I felt that was sufficient, so instead of spending my free time making more outfits, I spent it getting to know the crew. The fourth week, I was moved to the evening slot. I started at 6:00 PM, and went until 2:00 AM. At my post-8:00 PM break, I removed my top for a more adult crowd in the lounge. My tips showed a noticeable growth. I was definitely being noticed by the crowd. It was only later that I learned I was also causing the general revenue in the lounge to grow.
At the end of the summer, I left the ship, and returned to Rio and Peggy’s family. I not only had been given a raise mid-job, but also was given a bonus for the increased sales in the lounge. They also indicated they wanted me next year.
This year, the school let me teach a regular class, and not just a few people. It was a lot more work than I expected. My social life was cut down, since I had to help my students after class. Still, I was able to go with Peggy to the nude beaches and relax and have sex on the weekends. Working on the new theme also ate up a lot of time. Not only did I need to work on my costume, but I also had to organize the class’s dance scheme, so that it would mesh well with the rest of the school.
One of the things I liked, was that the class voted to go with a lot of bare breasts. We were going with a lot of shiny metal, rhinestones, and such. We wanted to highlight the breasts and nipples, while showing a lot of skin. There were going to be a lot of tassels, with them at our ankles, knees, wrists, and elbows. Additionally, our headdresses had lengthy metallic tassels to simulate hair.
Our costumes were designed with the idea that everyone would be wearing C-strings. The backside would hide in the butt crack, and the front would be as thin as we could get away with. Even the men had them, but theirs had extra room in front to hide their balls. All were shiny. This meant that nothing went around our hips, and we used that to our advantage.
We had the basic costume designs ready, and a few even had wearable versions, when Christmas came. They were not complete, but suddenly, everyone in the city went into redesign mode. The local government had finally given in to social pressure, and declared that groins did not need to be covered for Carnival. Still, actual sex was not allowed, but nudity was acceptable. I immediately ditched my C-string, and over the next two weeks, the class came to a consensus to also ditch theirs. But the men, rather than just letting their dicks just hang out in front, decided to add tassels there, so with each shake of their dick, the tassels would shake and sparkle. We also decided to go smooth, so everyone learned how to shave their genitals, if they didn’t already know.
While I got a fair amount of exercise teaching the class, I started doing exercises on the nude beach, so I would have a hard-body. Sometimes, I even did push-ups with a man below me, so his dick would go in and out of me as I went down and up. The whole time, Peggy or Sam would be coaching me and egging me on.
We changed the choreography to have the men and women come near each other, without contact, let alone penetration. The movement looked like sex, but with an invisible separator between them. The men decided to take Viagra just before the parade started, so their dicks would stand proudly for the whole route. Some even took it for the practices. We worked hard on the dance, to make it both extremely sexual, but also very graceful. At that point, I decided on laser hair removal, to make me smooth, so I would not have to shave anymore.
By the month before the parade, we stopped using the changing rooms, and just got naked in front of each other, before putting on our costumes. We all got comfortable being next to other mostly naked people, as we practiced. Often, when I called the class over, several pairs would have one last dance, but unlike the earlier ones, these were full contact. When the dance finished, they then went horizontal, and had sex in front of anyone still around.
When the parade happened, there were a number of groups that chose to show everything, just like us. Two got disqualified, because they accidentally had sexual contact. Some went for just showing everything, rather than working it into the theme, like we did. One of the things we did, that set us apart, was a large number of vertical splits. We also threw legs over other people’s heads, as they ducked under. The judges decided we were the most graceful of the dancers in our category, and we also went viral again.
After the parade, many went to assorted parties. With everything showing, many wound up openly having sex at those parties. That first night, I must have had sex with a dozen guys. Many also asked me to show them my vertical split. I happily obliged, as I knew it would open me up, and show a lot of pink.
While there were two more days of celebration, we didn’t have any particular part in the festivities. Given how many kids would be there, we weren’t surprised. So, instead, we just joined in the regular parties. I, like many, put on a limited version of my costume. This meant I wore the ankle and wrist tassels, and the wig, but that’s all. I was otherwise naked, going about the city. I even went shopping this way, and no one batted an eye.
I decided to see what would happen if I stopped wearing skirts, and just wore shirts that almost covered my slit. I knew when I sat, that I would be very exposed, but when I walked, you might not notice. Over the next two weeks, only a few people mentioned it to me, most in awe that I was getting away with it.
When I got the call for the cruise ship, I jumped at the opportunity. Since I was a returning entertainer, I could skip the cruise school and a lot of the paperwork. Again, they used the new viral video of me to base my expected main performance on. They also gave me a small raise. I could use the same ship uniform, but I would wear it only a short time each day, as I headed to and from work, and when I went about in public, but not on the clock.
While this was a different ship, most of it was the same. The lounge was called The Pirate’s Cove, and I added a few tidbits to my costume to make it more pirate oriented. That included a fake black eye-patch, that I could easily see through, and a pirate hat. For a time, I tried a pirate sword, but it interfered with the dancing too much. I finally made a plastic flintlock pistol that I could keep in a belt. It was clearly two dimensional, so no one was fooled into thinking it was real. I even bought some skull and crossbones earrings. Adding a pirate accent on top of a Brazilian accent took a bit of practice.
Two months in, I had one of my friends in the crew take a bunch of photos of me working the crowd in my carnival pirate outfit. I planned to make posters of some of them, and some of the ones from the previous trip.
One of the guests I entertained with several dances, gave me his card. We had been talking about my desire to open a samba school in the States, and he ran some in Florida. After he left, we kept in touch by email. I would ask about places where there were a lot of Brazilians, and also lax clothing laws, where a school could be located. He did some looking, and gave several suggestions.
After the cruise, I had one more year left on my education visa. This year, I started working more directly with the school management, so I could learn how to run a school. I learned how to balance the books, how to source craft materials, and how to handle charging for students. I even learned about the many ways some paid, or were granted free lessons. I was not part of any particular section from the school, so my costume this year was unique, yet still fit the overall theme. At the end of the year, they even gave me graduation certificates that stated I was qualified to teach samba, and stated I was licensed to run a franchise of the school.
At this point, Peggy and I parted. We celebrated almost a whole week, and had many tears. Sam and I had a goodbye fuck. I also packed everything into a number of boxes, that I left at the school until I sent for them. On the plane back to Indiana, I completely forgot I was dressed for Rio. That is, wearing hardly anything. As I was on the red-eye, most slept. But on both legs of my flight, someone asked me to have sex in the air. So I did.
One of the things I did when I entered the States, was to switch to my Indiana accent. It definitely helped when passing Miami customs. My family picked me up, as I intended on staying only a few weeks before heading back to Florida to start up a business. It wasn’t until the morning, as I left the shower, that I was reminded this was not Rio. I bumped into my brother wearing only a single towel about my hair. It was awkward for him, but I said that in Rio, I had lost any embarrassment over a lack of clothing. After that, I did make an effort to be a little more careful around the house.
While at home, I searched the locations I was given, to see what facilities were available. I also worked with a national bank to get a loan set up to start the school. When it was time to leave, I booked a motel for a week, and used Uber to visit all the places. While I looked at all five of them, it was the third one that I felt was the best. I signed the papers with the agent and the bank, and now had a place to make into a school. The friend I danced with on the ship turned out to be a big help. He even invested in my business.
First thing I did was move into the building. Picking one of the back offices for my room, I set it up with a cot, and made it a little bedroom. The place didn’t have a shower, but did have a bathroom. I joined the local YWCA, which let me access a shower, and also their bulletin boards. I knew I would need a lot of things to make this a school, but I prioritized the things I needed to teach a single class. Another thing I did, was to take up the Brazilian accent again. That would make me seem more authentic.
First, I needed a dance floor, and some lockers. Next, would be changing rooms. Later, I would add showers to both, but that would have to wait until money was at least flowing. As the dance floor was shaping up, I realized I needed better lighting, so I had to spend extra money on that. Once I had the floor and changing rooms, I added the signage. The name of the place would be ‘Samba by June’, and below that would be, ‘Authentic Brazilian Samba.’
At the Y, I had already learned what days were best for teaching, and also where I could advertise my services as a dance escort. I figured the latter would help with the cash flow while I got the school running. I made sure to tell those customers that there would be no sex, as I didn’t want to run afoul of the law. But I would be eye candy, and a dance partner.
That first month, I had no students. But I continued to advertise, but I also added some discounts and free lessons to get people in. It turned out the people at the local Catholic church I went to, were my first customers. At three months, I had enough to start a second session. At six months, I was able to add more lockers, and add the showers. I hired a martial arts instructor to run fight training in the morning, as a separate business name, even though everything was under one set of books.
While I wouldn’t have sex with him, I didn’t mind letting him see me in various states of undress. We traded lessons. Within a year, we had enough students between us, that I could drop the escort sideline. Instead, I increased the price. It was fun, and if they wanted me that much, why not charge for it. I also had Peggy ship my stuff to my new school.
I moved into a nearby apartment with a private pool where I could work on my tan. I changed my room into my office. The people at my apartment loved the fact I liked to tan and swim nude, and not get any tan lines. The pizza guy loved delivering to me, since I rarely wore anything in my apartment, and I would answer the door in the nude. Sometimes, I offered him a tip of sex. He usually took it. A few months later, we started dating.
It turned out there was a real market for samba in this small city. We were close to a real big city, yet far enough away to have our own rules. I added a late class, and said it would be for Carnival-style samba. For it, I would wear one of my many outfits, often topless, to teach how samba is done for Carnival. I also displayed the mama bird outfit near the entryway, and in full view from outside. I added a small screen that showed a loop of that parade, and me in that costume. It didn’t take long for most of the classes to request a change to Brazilian style, so I left the earliest one as it was, and all the rest went over to Brazilian style.
The martial art classes were also successful, so we took over the property adjacent to us, and made it into a dojo. It was connected, and shared the locker rooms and showers, but could now be used at the same time as the dance studio. My investor was happy with the profit I was making, as it meant he was making money also.
But the strangest thing was that the pizza guy and I fell in love. Only in America.