My cousin Linda and I are about the same age. We have always gotten along, those few times each year we get together. It’s usually during the holidays or for a wedding that we talked a little. She kissed me once years ago under the mistletoe when one of the uncles made her.

Last spring we danced some at a wedding reception. It was OK, especially since I had just learned to dance at Dad’s club and she had never ‘touch’ danced before. She seemed to enjoy the slow dances but we were both more comfortable with faster music. Since then I’ve grown a little taller than her. After dancing we talked about our experiences at our parents’ vacation condo. We both have the same fair skin so even the winter sun in Mexico burns us.

When our grandparents died years ago, they left their two-week condo ownership in Mexico to both of our parents. Linda’s dad and mine are brothers. Since the condo only had room for five people, my mom, dad, and I would use it one week and Linda and her parents would take it the next. My dad owns the Food-n-Fast chain and flies all over inspecting them. I get to go along sometimes if my school work is good enough and I’m used to flying to Mexico and around the country.

This year was going to be different. Linda’s parents were separated so Linda and her mom were going to come with us. Her dad didn’t want to use the week, even though it was really his inheritance. This way we could use the condo a full two weeks. Linda and her mom would have the bedroom while my mom and dad would have the bed in the main room. I would sleep on the couch in there too.

Dad made it a habit to schedule our flights so they could visit the cemetery during the layover in L.A. Since the cab didn’t have room for all of us, Linda and I got to stay at the airport, much to our relief. Going to the cemetery in a hot cab and watching our mothers cry was no fun.

Dad had three frequent flyer upgrades to first class, so Linda and I got to sit together in coach on the flight to L.A. When they went to the cemetery, Dad gave me his frequent flyer card so we could use the airport club room to wait. They didn’t notice that I was “Junior” and couldn’t possibly have been a member for 17 years.

In about two hours, it was time to get on the plane to Mexico, but the others hadn’t returned. Linda and I went to the gate to wait. As the flight time arrived, I heard the ticket agent say that the flight was full and that all the seats were sold for the next three days. Even first class was sold out. We had all the carry-on bags, and the rest had been checked through.

Dad had explained about the new security procedures, and I noticed that all the checked bags were checked under my dad’s name. If his first class ticket wasn’t used, then all the baggage would be taken off, and we would be stuck for three days. And Dad’s upgrades were only good that day.

We waited as long as possible to get on the plane. Since I had Dad’s ticket and my ID matched, the gate agent didn’t look twice at Linda’s ID. Linda is tall enough to pass for eighteen, but I don’t think I look very old. I hardly need to shave. Anyway, we got on and in first class too. The flight attendant took the extra tickets and said she would have the gate agent give them to the rest of our party when they arrived. And would we like something to drink, perhaps a margarita while we waited to take off?

It was a good flight. After a couple of margaritas, Linda and I stopped worrying about what our parents would do and enjoyed ourselves. The flight attendant gave us special attention, and I enjoyed looking at the freckles on her blouse. Every time she served us, her blouse would open, and the bra would hang away from her medium-sized breasts. I think I like freckles.

The first time Linda caught me and poked me in the ribs. The attendant just smiled. The second time, Linda told me I was being rude to her. Linda had a nice figure too, and when she leaned the seat back, it really showed off her tits. She was wearing a sun dress that conformed to the curves of her tits. I could feel heat rush to my crotch.

Customs didn’t really question us, and we had both been to the condo enough to know how to get a shuttle van and load all the luggage. It was really hot in the van, and Linda slipped her bra off when the driver wasn’t looking. She didn’t mind that I was watching, but then I didn’t see anything either.

At the condo, I just walked up to the front desk, showed my ID, and got the key to our unit. The bell captain called for a “boy” to help with the mountain of bags. The bellman was older than me. Once in the room, I gave him a big tip like Dad always said. About ten minutes later, the phone rang, and I was quickly connected to Dad. He was mad.

I explained my logic, but he was still pissed. Probably at the cab driver who got lost. They were on standby for tomorrow and the next day and the next day. Yes, he had the tickets, and where did the first-class tickets go? I explained again. He liked first class. Heck, I did too now. They didn’t even have any luggage or clean clothes.

While I was on the phone, Linda answered a knock at the door, and in walked the same bellman with a pitcher of margaritas. I waved at him to let me sign for the bill as I talked.

“Welcome to you, Senor. No cost,” he said in good English. I gave Linda some money to tip him. He pointed at a number next to the phone and told us to call if we wanted more.