Menina
Copyright© 2025 by Fofo Xuxu
Chapter 1
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - In a steamy region of Brazil, a man and a girl are left to themselves, which quickly turns into a frolicking adventure. Congenial ties and mutual trust clear the way for curiosity and lust to forge erotic thoughts, bawdy conversations, inappropriate acts, and eventually forbidden love. It is an exotic drama based on real places, recognizable personalities, and the anecdotes of a secret pornographer.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction True Story School Cheating InLaws Light Bond Spanking Interracial Exhibitionism First Oral Sex Small Breasts Nudism Prostitution Slow
She called me tio from the moment we met. It means uncle, but as a foreigner, I was not yet sure of the culturally accurate implication that the word carried, like so many other expressions and peculiar habits of the simpático people of Brazil. Foreign languages can be a minefield.
However, I thought the term was cute.
Her name was Nina, which rhymed with menina [meh-NEE-nah], or girl, and I ended up calling her just that.
I saw Menina for the first time when I visited the home of Natalia, the girl I had a crush on. Dating had to follow proper cultural and social etiquette, especially in a small town in the interior of Brazil, where, if the father of the girl gave you the cold shoulder or the evil eye, you knew not to come back.
Menina was the sister of Natalia, the caçula [ka-SU-la], the youngest among six siblings, all girls. Television had not yet reached this corner of Brazil, and people found other ways to entertain themselves.
At the tender age of nine, I was struck by how much she looked like a Yanomami Amazon Indian with black hair, bangs cut straight across, brown sun-drenched skin, barefoot and naked except for dingy, off-white, tattered panties with an overstretched elastic waistband that barely held up around her slender hips. She was in the backyard running wild, trying to catch a piglet her father was raising for a special year-end dinner.
On my third visit to my future bride, the nine-year-old walked into the living room fresh as a daisy, wearing the bare essentials for a humid, 95-degree day: pink flip-flops and sparkling white cotton panties. She sat on a chair across from us, staring at us, swinging her legs, swaying from side to side, and not saying a word. No one told her to leave, although I felt she preferred to go outside and play with the piglet.
As our relationship grew, I attended the regular Saturday evening Mass with Natalia as a way to show my respect for her and her family, as well as prove my credentials as an upstanding bachelor and worthy member of the community. The first time I went to pick her up at her home, I was surprised to see Menina in a white knee-high dress, black Mary Jane flats, white ankle socks, and a white bow in her hair. The transformation from a half-naked girl chasing a piglet into an immaculate little angel was striking.
She followed us to the church and sat next to Natalia. It took me a while to comprehend that she was a vela, or candle, accompanying us, not doing or saying anything, just being there to make sure nothing inappropriate would happen. The practice of having a vela was an indispensable condition for a girl to go on a date.
The relationship between Natalia and me evolved on a promising trajectory, and our encounters continued at her home long after I asked her father, out of respect, to give his consent to our formal engagement. Most evenings, the parents and siblings left us alone on the front porch to do what two noivos, engaged love birds do. Occasionally, though, our vela would appear, sticking her head around the door to check up on us, catching us kissing, hands roaming under a blouse, hands caressing a trousered bulge, whispering, panting, sighing. She wasn’t there to spy on us. She was just plain curious.
She took her role seriously and, soon after our honeymoon, would regularly show up at our house, just a couple of houses from hers, to eat and watch television with us, often snuggled between us on the couch. We became like a family and enjoyed having her around. Because of our age difference of fifteen years, we treated her like a niece. She wasn’t shy about anything and asked a million questions, which Natalia was always ready to answer, including giving her the Talk.
It got to a point where inhibitions were left at the door along with flip-flops. Natalia and I were no libertines but tried to act naturally and casually without being obscene or making a fuss. It was no surprise to us when Menina would wander into our bedroom and watch us getting undressed, or appear in the bathroom to observe us taking a shower in the open stall. She was a little self-conscious about removing her panties, but all that was conveniently tossed aside when Natalia invited her to join us under the refreshing shower.
Natalia and I slept naked under a mosquito net and often without covering ourselves to get some relief from the stifling heat. So it was a bit disconcerting when Menina started popping in on weekends, finding us sleeping late and seeing me with my energetic sex pistol pointing skyward.
A few times, she found me in the kitchen, bare naked, either with my flaccid, four-inch dick hanging politely or with a six-inch erection aiming menacingly at whatever moved in front of me, and it didn’t seem to bother the little minx one bit.
We never said anything in order not to traumatize or stigmatize her, not even the first time she accidentally discovered us in the throes of sexual intercourse. She caught us in the act several times, but we suspected that it was planned.
Menina watched us making love, curious about what she was seeing but still puzzled by it. She certainly wanted to know more.