tagInterracial LoveVacation in the Brazilian Jungle

Vacation in the Brazilian Jungle

bycowboy109©

BRAZIL - HERE I COME!

Donald stepped into the Boeing 787 Dreamliner. The welcome space was lavishly spacious and unusually tall for an airplane. Getting squeezed out of the compressed terminal walkway was freeing. The feeling of starting out on a great summer vacation to Brazil really sunk into his mind. The stewardess in the blue suit and the pearl earrings smiled.

With the next shuffle step, he was right back into the squeeze of passengers backing up in front and passengers inching forward. The packed space made it a close family experience. Donald felt like his nose poked his parents and his sister Leslie in front of him. Their bodies took up extra space with the coats over one arm and the large carry on pushed like a shield in the other. There was way too much clothing, hair, and knickknacks in his face. Magazines, bottles, iPods, glasses were shuffled form one hand to the next, into and out of bags, and onto trays.

The mood lighting that cycled through the artificial colors of the airline's logo anchored the whole mess in. Getting into the seat didn't improve things. Leslie claimed the armrest first with her elbow. Victorious smiles escaped her placed face. She arranged the celebrity magazine and iPod with the arm belonging to the other elbow.

He grumpily looked at the window three seats away. The oversized windows with the dimming glass were supposed to be the highlight of the new Boeing 787 Dreamliner. Yep, the window was a tiny speck hidden behind bodies and seats. His mind wandered to imagine what he would tell his class on the first day after school about his first trip to Brazil. Nope, there wouldn't be any class anymore. He had graduated high school a month ago.

He was a young man poised to study math, because he always got A's in math without studying. His pants were gray Ted Baker slacks with a cut that accentuated his slender tall body. Last moment in the morning, he had decided that pink would be a bit dashing and unconventional to wear for a shirt on the travel day. His hair was long and wavy. His face was tall and highlighted by dark eye brows and dark shadows. Yet, his baby blue eyes gleamed with a sparkle, when the light shown right.

His sister next to him was leaning over the tray to flip through her magazine. Her mouth made oh's of exasperation every now and then. The lip stick was pink and the most boring and conservative hue in her whole class. One of her feet was resting up on the seat, so that she could put her upper arm on the knee tip. The hand held her forehead and hair bag. The hair was too puffy and of a seriously annoying natural blond. The first thing that he would do with her hair would be to thin it and color it with a blond from an upscale hair salon.

Though, that was not his decision. He would also burn her wardrobe. The pants and sweatshirt made his sister look big and clumsy, rather then take advantage of her height to make her a tall model like being. The pants were one big cut that did not provide highlights or re-shape her hips in anything that called out sexy. There she went again making facial expressions to herself that demanded a response from everyone else.

"What is your favorite part about Brazil," said Donald trying to make friendly conversation.

"Oh, I can't wait to meet the Latin lovers. All the gentlemen will open the door for me. And, they will gently hold my hand, while they take a bow. Their eyes will have such deep passion, when they see me walking down the street."

"Snap out of it, Leslie. With all those hot Latinas in thong bikinis, they won't even notice you in your grand mother clothes. You did bring at least swimwear, did you? This is Brazil with beaches and parties!"

"Uh, you are so rude again."

She rolled up her magazine and hit him on the thigh. Her face looked tense. He threw his arms up to rest them behind his neck. His sister had returned from her freshman year in college. And, she hadn't grown any easier, worldly, or sophisticated. Then, she walked off to look for the seats, where their parents were seated. His elbow claimed the arm rest.

The rest of the travel went back into a blur. Mind numbing waiting in the airline chair made him want to stand on his head. However, the head space was not near enough to actually attempt such a thing. There was the physical relief of walking to the bathroom every two hours. That also brought the mental relief of scanning the passenger for the one or two cute girls in the crowd of middle aged people.

The São Paulo-Guarulhos airport was like most airports. Multilingual signs for baggage claim and taxi. A mix of people from all countries dressed in fine clothes. There was the conspicuous absence of really poor and rich people. The palm trees and fluffy air flow suggested a warm country. The people lacked what the Brazilian fantasy had promised. They were mostly dressed conservatively in single colored pants and shirts. The exuberantly sexy and shiny people were the minority to be gleaned in the steadily moving crowd.

The taxi was full of foreign signs. Yet, otherwise the taxi delivered the family to the hotel without infamous cussing, speeding, or throngs of impoverished kids running behind the car. The hotel had plenty of the same fake gold ornaments and soiled carpet as the hotels in America. Like with all hotels, he loved the clean, smooth bed sheets and the meticulously cleaned bathroom. The clean bathroom made him want to roll around in it. Obviously, his own bathroom at home had an unspoken and denied cleaning problem.

He looked over at his sister. Her hands were busily messing with her suit case and the closet. Her feet shuffled in house slippers. He looked at his own bare feet, the shirt tossed over a chair, and the undershirt that he was wearing.

"Sis, we are only in Sao Paolo for one day. There is no sense in unpacking. You will only have to pack again. And, guess who gets to sit on your suit case to make everything fit?"

"First, having everything neatly in the closet makes me feel at home. Second, you will be the one that walks around in wrinkled clothes. And, all the girls will turn their noses up, because Latin men know how to take care of their gentleman wardrobe."

"Whatever you say, sis."

The cool part about family vacations is that they are free. An international trip like this would have taken him many pizza deliveries. The bad part about family vacations is that, even they were both over eighteen, they still got to share the same room. Their parents were partially in denial about their kids growing up and partially reluctant to spend double the money on the kids. With all the college expenses, neither of the kids dared to challenge the wisdom.

Leslie went to the bathroom. She reappeared in knee length draw string pajamas. The fabric was stiff, tube-like with a faded pink. The pajama top had lace decoration in the front. Half circles of white lace tried to make the pajama look special, yet only managed to remind of a bored worker yelling at his boss "here are your damn boring laces. Let me have fun designing clothes for once."

Donald simply tossed the pants over the chair as well and slipped under the sheets in his underwear. They turned the lights off. He closed his eyes. The images of the travel flashed in front of his eyes. His mind remembered the look of the airport and acknowledged that he was present in Brazil. Sometimes, the body travels faster than the mind. And, the mind has to consciously catch up.

His mind remembered the blond cheerleader type girl in the airport security screening line. She had worn a pink and white checkered mini skirt with a black belt. Her attitude was so perky. She placed her items on the conveyor into the x-ray machine with a bounce. Her arms moved fluid and were unafraid to raise high to draw attention. The hair was freshly colored near platinum blond. Two pig tails pulled the hair to each side. The hair formed straight and smooth lines. Her full lips were chewing on bubble gum.

"You are ruining my pedicure," had she said with a flirtatious smile to the security officer, when she slipped of her high heels. The high heels were cork wedges that were only held by her toes like flip flops. Her skirt had ruffled, when she had bent over to pick up her shoes. The security guard had smiled and looked, while remaining motionless to feel safe.

Those feet had beautiful arches. The nails had a bright green apple polish with a wet looking gloss. He imagined her bare soles rubbing against his hard penis. He imagined the smooth and moist skin pulling his penis skin as he shoved the feet down. He imagined the small pain and the immense horniness from having her feet on his hard erection.

He turned over in his bed, so that he could feel the pressure of the mattress against his penis. He imagined looking in her face. She'd give him a wink back with her eyes to tell him that he should go ahead using her feet for his erotic pleasure. She'd sit with her legs bent and on her elbows looking up at him. He'd unbutton her blouse one more button to see her full cleavage, those health, happy, wholesome boobs lifted by an underwire bra.

In the hotel bed, he moved his hips up and down against the mattress. His body weight was pressing down. The smooth sheets gliding along his penis skin felt wonderful. He pressed his lungs to breathe quietly to not alert his sister. He carefully listened to the sound of the sheets moving with his hip pushing to minimize the noise. Oh, it felt so good. He had to secretly feel that brush against the sheets again.

Next thing, he was moving onto his knees and then all the way flat to get larger strokes out of his mattress. His mind was focusing on one toe at a time of that cheerleader. Those round chubby little love bumps. He imagined the taste of her freshly washed feet with a couple hours of perspiration. How sweet would the smell.

His raging horniness made him forget about his sister in the bed next to him. He full on placed his penis on the sheets at the bottom of the bed. Then, he pulled himself to the top of the bed, while trying to balance his whole wait on his penis. It was kind of like sledding on his penis.

And, then the throbbing started. And, his whole body tensed and raised up into the air to increase the weight on his penis. The spurts of cum pulsed into his underwear. The cum soaked through into the clean hotel sheets. No matter how he tried to constrict his breath, he could hear his breath and heart like the thunder of the steaming railroad train.

He recovered silently and motionless under the sheet. He puzzled to himself how his sister could not have noticed him. His sister was probably mortified and tried to ignore the episode. He easily fell asleep in post coital dreams.

SIZZLING HOT POOL SIDE TIME OR NOT?

"But, dad you promised that we would spend one day in the city."

"Donald, I am tired. I have jetlag. Let me rest at the pool. Tomorrow, we are going on our jungle exploration. Aren't you excited about seeing the jungle plants and the exotic animals?"

"Dad, I want the beach, the girls, and the party."

"Why don't you put some sunscreen on your sister? That way, you get at least one girl."

"Ugh, dad. I don't want Donald touching me. The Latin man will run at the chance to help a lady."

Leslie looked at a young man with black pants and a Hawaiian shirt. "Boy, would you please put some sunscreen on my back."

"Miss, I can bring you drinks. If you don't have sunscreen, I could bring you a tube and charge it to your room. Though, I do not touch the customers."

The waiter left.

"But, didn't he flirt with that girl over there and put sunscreen on her back?" exclaimed Leslie.

"Leslie, that girl has a super hot body in a skimpy black bikini with the back strap undone. And, she does not sit with her parents," added Donald.

"Ha! A real gentleman does not want to see everything. A real gentleman eschews slutty behavior like that."

"Dad, I want to pick up that chick. How do I do it? You got mom. You gotta tell me how to do it."

"Well, son, you head on over there. You say, 'My name is Donald. How are you this lovely day.' Or, ask her where she is from. That's always a safe question with travelers."

"Dad that is so lame. She is super cool. She needs to be approached super cool."

"Son, you should at least give it a try."

"Okay, dad. I want to give it a try. But, I am frozen. My legs don't want to move over there. How do I make them move?"

Mom got up. Mom was wearing her red racer one piece swimsuit with the golden buckle. Her hair was a pile of dirty blond rolls. She walked straight over to the girl in the black bikini resting on her belly. Her unexercised body clearly showed from behind. She talked to the girl for a minute and then turned back to the family.

Donald's head was fire red. His body felt very uncomfortable. "Mom, you embarrassed me in front of that girl. Now, I can never approach her anymore."

"Oh, she said that she would have loved to talk to her. But, her boyfriend is very jealous," reported ma.

"Well, there you have it, son," added dad.

Dad's head went down onto the travel papers. He was sitting on the lounge chair with his legs spread wide over both sides. He had a large trunk and dominated the vicinity with his potbelly and chest hair. He looked strong, because his arms and legs were full from his years with the army.

He announced to the group, "That highway that we are taking to the jungle resort cuts straight through virgin forest. A big development company has only recently completed the highway. There are still original people in the jungle, who oppose the highway bitterly. However, they have neither guns nor rhetoric to influence the permit process. They are these untouched natives running around half naked. Well the pictures show them mostly naked."

"They did create a lot of delays with the construction crews though. They use blow darts rubbed on poison frogs to ambush work crews. The Golden Poison Frog's poison is so lethal that one gram of it could kill 15,000 people. Wait, that means a ton of the poison could wipe out the entire population. Ha, many chickens and dogs have died from getting in contact with a piece of paper that the frog has walked over. Amazing, aren't you all excited to explore this world?"

"Honey, I am not one of your army buddies. I don't want to see any frogs at all. I want to see pretty flowers," rejoined mom.

"And, I want to get laid by a real Brazilian, but we will be stuck in the boondocks."

"Children, come on, this may be our last family vacation together. You are all so grown up."

RUMBLING BUS ACROSS THE JUNGLE HIGHWAY

The next morning, a gleaming, spanking new long distance bus gently hummed out of Sao Paolo with the family. The bus was comfortably air conditioned. The upholstery was firm and had a gentle factory smell. The bus's suspension glided easily under the steady hand of the driver. The large windows let the landscape pass by. Mom and dad were in each other's arms relieving romantic moments of the past.

Both kids were enthralled watching the passing city. The buildings turned into pastures and forests. The journey turned really interesting, when the tires hit the white gravel road. Tiny pebbles were perfectly evenly graded with little excess piles on the side of the highway. This was the celebrated Trans Francisco Continental Highway.

Large construction vehicles occasionally lined the road. One was a two lane wide earth mover. Everything about the vehicle was giant, the claws, the tires, the two story high tower on top of it, except of the cockpit. The single driver cockpit was a small box stuck on top of the giant yellow monster vehicle. Most trucks were like that as well. Enormous trucks that could carry a little hill had only a little black cockpit on the left side.

There were no buildings along the road. As a matter of fact, there was not much variation at all. The jungle was simply a green wall of large leaves that reached high into the sky. Even though the biodiversity is praised, from the road, it looked like a straight forward green wall with little variation.

The passengers of the deluxe pass were a mix of eco tourists and locals on their way to remove villages and work places. All of them were subdued and enthralled to watch the landscape outside. Only, the assistant driver with a large black mustache felt pep in his body. Every half hour or so, he'd get on the microphone to name a site that we passed. His voice and gestures had the excitement of a soccer announcer. Maybe, he was practicing for a career switch.

The outside air was humid and hot. The inside air was dry and cool. The air was rich of oxygen from all the trees around. The Amazon is the lung of the world. There was a small bathroom in the bus with its own exhaust and air perfume. The seats were spacious. It was very comfortable to live in the bus for a day. Donald listened to mellow music that he had downloaded before the trip.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see a row of broken branches stuck in the road. It was a tight line of sticks across the road. One sharp end was in the gravel. The other end was in the air. A second later, the bus swerved and slid sideways. Tight silence and tension in the air permeated as everyone clutched onto something and braised themselves for a crash or rollover.

It didn't happen. The bus came to a stop sideways on the highway. The highway was still wider than the bus. No other cars were around on the endless stretch of highway. The bus driver and his assistant were the first to yell. They attempted counting the number of spare tires and the distance to the next emergency stop.

The familiar Portuguese arguing set the passengers at ease. The passengers started rearranging their items and discuss the situation. You'd wish that there were chickens flying around in a rickety bus. However, it was simply a travel inconvenience like getting a flat anywhere else. Donald braised himself for hours of sitting around for the Brazilian triple-A to show up.

Then, people started shouting. Everyone rushed to the left window. A band of seven brown indigenous people appeared out of the jungle. They were dressed just like in National Geographic. They had skimpy grass skirts. They had giant lips skewered with wooden skewers. They had red lines, circles, and stars painted with white wavy lines. They carried blow dart pipes. Those pipes were about three foot long.

Their skin was amazingly brown reddish and leather like. They walked barefoot. The skin in their faces was distorted from pulling and partially surgical procedures with primitive instruments.

"No problem. Please, remain calm. They only want Cola. They don't want money. They don't understand money. We just give them a few bottles of cola and they will move on."

The bus assistant hurried out of the door into the humid hid cradling five or six bottles of cola in his arms. He placed the bottles of coke carefully on the ground, stepped back, and generously waved the indigenous to pick up the bottles. With the satisfied smile of a hero, he stood back to let the band come closer and inspect the bottles.

The indigenous did not care for the cola bottle. The assistant bus drivers face collapsed with fear. The band of warriors waved the passengers to come out. They yelled "lumabas -- lumabas." The passengers looked large and clumsy next to the fast moving and agile warrior band. The indigenous people were quite short with 4-5 feet height. Their bodies were trim from roaming the jungle all day. The passengers had large corn fed bodies.

"Those poison darts are very deadly. Let's all get out of the bus and do what they ask," called the driver assistant the renewed poise of a cheerleader. He helped the elderly women step down the stairs onto the gravel highway.

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bycowboy109© 5 comments/ 68838 views/ 3 favorites

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