Chapter 1

It was finally summer vacation, and I would soon be a Junior in High School. I was really looking forward to leveling up in Diablo 4 and World of Warcraft with my friends. I remember my dad coming to me a few weeks ago and saying, “Jason, there is more to life than video games. Aren’t you interested in girls?”

“Sure,” I said. I pointed to the screen. “There is a naked elf dancing on the table in Goldshire Tavern.”

I was joking. I knew that the on-screen avatar wasn’t a real girl.

My dad sighed. “Son, we are going on a vacation, and I am talking in the real world, not Elwynn Forest.”

Flash Forward three weeks later. I’ve never met much of my mom’s side of the family.

My Mother was born in Brazil but raised here in America.

Apparently, her sister’s family owned a “Spacious Winnebago,” and we were going to go on a fantastic trip to see the sights. My parents told me that I would be excited to meet the Almeida family.

“Jason, Brazilian people have a different culture, but they are just like you and me. Your mom is Brazilian. This will be a learning experience for you,” he promised. I was skeptical, to say the least.

My sister Audrey wasn’t interested in any of this either. She’s a year older than me and has gone kind of Goth over the last year. She likes listening to angry music on her iPhone and tuning the rest of us out.

However, Mom and Dad were certainly on board with it. It did sound a little like an adventure. The R.V. did look really spacious on the outside, but when you are talking about eight people fitting into a space built for six people, the reality is that it is very cramped. It’s livable, but privacy is at a premium, and we had to double up.

I had to sleep with my cousin Hector. He’s handsome, brooding, with short dark hair cropped in a high and tight. He has a cocky smile, and even though he is a little younger than me – he seems so much more mature. They grow them tall out in Brazil.

My cousin Brunna is tall as well. She was just starting high school, but she was taller than me. The first thing I noticed about my cousin was her remarkable doe-like brown eyes. They are like huge circles of pristine elemental earth.

The second thing that I noticed was her huge knockers. She was wearing this pink tank top that showed off her cleavage when I first met her. It was like she had no idea that her tits were special or needed to be in a bra – because she acted like it was no huge deal to wear that flimsy little top to meet us.

There was something so sexual about that white top even though it was just an ordinary tank top.

I remember when I finally stopped staring into her eyes, she reached down with both hands, lifted her tits by pulling up her shirt, and then dropped them. They wobbled a little and settled in place.

My mom and dad noticed as well. They also noticed the stunned look on my face. It was an awkward introduction.

She also speaks with a slight lisp that gives her a childlike quality when speaking. My cousin will turn the baby talk on thick when she wants to act innocent and cutesy. It was probably cute when she was little, but now it’s incredibly sexy when she puts her finger in her mouth and sucks on it while she talks like a dum-dum.

Brunna and Hector’s parents are quite an interesting pair. My Uncle Jose is confident and seems very much like a South American version of my father. He has similar interests in sports, and they are about the same age.

However, my Aunt Gloria and my mom couldn’t be more different. It’s hard to believe they are sisters. Gloria apparently went back to Brazil when she grew up and adopted the culture and speaks with a slight Portugese accent (Sounded Spanish to me at the time, because I didn’t’ know the difference). She is very light skinned like my mom and has the same jet-black hair that my Mother and I do.

My mom and her sister do LOOK similar in the face, and that is where the similarities end. Aunt Gloria has a stunning figure and huge fake tits that jut straight out. She has sparkling eyes that seem to twinkle when she is talking to me. She is vivacious and outspoken.

My mom has always been on the conservative side, and you’d hardly believe that Gloria is the older sister because she dresses so much younger. It’s hotter down in Brazil, and that’s probably the reason.

When Jose showed up in our driveway with the R.V., we piled all of our luggage in. He had plenty of room to store it under the R.V. in spacious compartments. That meant that I couldn’t bring much on the R.V. with me to wear or use. I chose my laptop bag.

“You won’t be using the computer that much,” Jose warned me as I started setting up on the kitchen desk. I had a hotspot on my phone, and I planned to do some gaming while we drove. I nodded and let the others settle in.

The first day we didn’t make it out of the State. We stopped for lunch at Stucky’s – I wouldn’t recommend it unless you like stale waffles and 1960s décor.

We didn’t visit any tourist traps or talk much. The Almedia family remained largely to themselves and frequently spoke Portuguese to one another. I do not even think my Mother knew what they were saying. They obviously didn’t want us eavesdropping, and there was no way you couldn’t hear what anybody said in the cramped quarters of the Winnebago.

The Morgan family remained largely quiet. My father drove, and while he occasionally liked to announce songs from the 1970s that were playing on the radio (that nobody else seemed to enjoy), he was largely silent. My mom sat in the passenger side next to him, scanning her phone and checking out Pinterest.

Audrey was listening to her headphones and looking sullen, and I had my computer. The bandwidth of my cell phone hotspot made it largely impossible to play online games, and those are the kinds I enjoy the most. I had to try to find something to keep me occupied, so I tried browsing websites and even reading about Brazil.

My family didn’t have long conversations like the Almeida did. They laughed and frequently had boisterous discussions. I was a little envious of how closely knit they were. We only spoke English, so even if my family did engage in conversation, the Almeida family would know exactly what we were talking about.

We pulled into a K.O.A. the first night.

“How about that, Jason!” Dad seemed really pleased by the practicality of traveling in an R.V. camper. “No hotel bills. You just pull in, plug in, and sleep in,” he said as he went to help Uncle Jose set up the septic and electric connections.

I was hoping that Dad didn’t get inspired to buy one of these contraptions. It had been one day of sitting at an uncomfortable kitchen table trying fruitlessly to game on my laptop, and I was already over the novelty of it all.

Audrey complained right away too. She moaned about the lack of space to change in the sleeping compartment she had to share with Brunna.

“No big deal, just change anywhere,” Brunna shrugged. She reached down to the hem of her pink tank top and then casually lifted it over her head. As she did, her massive areola became visible as she bared her chest to me. I stood there, unable to move – unable to look away. I knew I SHOULD.

My mom, Aunt, Sister, and cousins were in the room – they all caught me staring.

“What?” Brunna caught me as well. She looked down at her fat tits and pushed her fingers against one of her nipples while lifting her tit up to expose her underboob. “is there something on my boobs?” she asked.

Brunna had such an innocent manner about her that she seemed almost dimwitted. I couldn’t comprehend how she could not know that I should not be able to SEE those majestic knockers of hers. She let go of her tit and let it flap down against her chest like a full flesh sack of milk. I wondered how she could resist the temptation not to play with those things constantly because just watching her lift a boob and drop it was a turn-on.

She reached down to the elastic waistband of the black shorts she was wearing and started to pull those down as well.

Uh, Brunna!” Gloria stopped her daughter with an empathic shout. “This is America. They don’t run around topless in front of each other.”

Brunna seemed confused and taken aback. “Not even to sunbathe?” she stood there with her arms at her sides, not even defensively cupping her magnificent chest to hide it from me now that she knew about our taboos about the female body.

“Not even to sunbathe?” Gloria looked at Ellen. My mom glared back at Gloria to imply that Gloria knew that.

“No honey,” Gloria spoke down to her daughter. It wasn’t condescending at all. Her Mother’s tone was empathetic, like when you explain to a child that Santa Claus can’t see them today because it is April, and he isn’t visiting the mall.

Brunna curled up a lip in frustrated disappointment. Grabbed her flimsy nightgown and pulled it over her head. The gossamer material was so sheer that I could quite easily see her nipples through the material. Brunna and Gloria thought nothing of that, though. She was shimmying out of the shorts by pulling them down under the nightgown when my father and Uncle returned.

They could tell from the look on our faces that something had happened – just not what. “What did I miss?” my dad asked with his usual corny expression after he told one of his infamous dad jokes.

“Nothing, Clark,” my mom said as she stared intently at me. My Mother’s gaze instantly communicated to me that I should stop staring at my attractive cousin while she tried to remove her shorts from under her nightgown.

Aunt Gloria changed the subject. She made us what she called traditional Brazilian food. It was okay, but it tasted more like Mexican food to me. She insisted that we all try her Vatapá. That’s A thick stew made from shrimp, bread, ground peanuts, and coconut milk and poured over rice. It was kind of disgusting, but I politely ate some so I didn’t offend her.

“Just like mother used to make, ai, Ellen?” Gloria asked.

“I never liked Vatapá,” Mom replied stiffly.

“Oh, you never liked anything Brazilian. This is more than a vacation. This is an adventure,” my Aunt held up a heaping spoon with a big fat shrimp on it for my mom to sample. “C’mon, you can’t say no!”

Mom reluctantly opened her mouth, swallowed a huge bite, and chewed it silently.

“What about you, Clark?”

“Is it spicy?” he asked Gloria.

“So, what if it is? Try it; you won’t know if you like it until you try it,” she held her hand under the spoon, reached across the table, and fed my father a much smaller bite than she gave my mom.

“No, that’s not spicy at all; it’s pretty good,” Dad thanked her politely after he swallowed it.

Audrey wouldn’t try it all.

“Oh my god, in Bahia, we would cry if someone left that much on their plate,” Gloria chided Audrey for not even attempting to eat most of her food.

“This is not Bahia,” Audrey replied sternly.

“You are right,” Gloria didn’t take it personally and didn’t rise to Audrey’s bait to argue. She just let the comment slide and wash down her back.

My mom, on the other hand, did what she normally did when Audrey got snarky. “Audrey Ann Morgan, Your Aunt spent a lot of time making us this food. You WILL try everything and thank them for it!”

“No,” Audrey’s blunt response left no room for argument or negotiation.

“Ugh, Teenagers, what can you do?” Mom rolled her eyes and looked at the other adults around the table for support. Mom frequently got frustrated with Audrey because she was almost old enough to move out on her own and stubbornly refused to help out around the house at all.

“Some traditional things can work to motivate children to change their attitudes,” Uncle Jose replied with a smirk that implied my sister and I were spoiled brats. I didn’t want to be lumped into the same category as my sister, but in retrospect, I had been sullen and tuned everyone out while I played on my computer as well. I just didn’t know what else to do in that situation.

There’s not much, but I thought I’d see what you thought of the storyteller’s character - it’s a little different than what either of us usually does.

“Close the windows, Jason; the rain is coming in!”

We had every window in the R.V. open and all the moon vents, too, because we couldn’t run the A.C. until we were on-site power. While we were at the rest area, there were no receptacles to plug the R.V. into, and SOMEONE had forgotten to fill the generator’s gas tank. Everyone had blamed me, but I didn’t even know the generator used gasoline.

So, when it started raining, Mom got into a tizzy about making me get all the windows closed. Then five minutes later, it was stinking hot inside. I thought nothing of stripping off my shirt - heck, I spent all summer at home shirtless, but then my cousin casually pulled her top off too.