The Girl from Brazil

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."