From louvre@dido.fa.indiana.eduFri Jun 23 01:38:03 1995
Date: Fri, 23 Jun 95 00:02:34 EST
From: The Louvre <louvre@dido.fa.indiana.edu>
To: jstevens@tdg.res.uoguelph.ca
Subject: Re: request (auto response)

anonymus+5725@charcoal.com
 
                    Mr. Velvet
 
                        MARIA FUENTES

                          Chapter 1


     From the heating ducts in Maria's bedroom, the cameras
rolled silently.  She was getting ready for school and had
just a pair of pink bikini panties on.  Her firm, smooth 16-
year-old body was well-toned and well-tanned as she stood
before the large mirror on her dresser brushing her long
brown hair.  Her breasts were of medium size, and her dark
brown nipples pointed softly straight out, maybe even up a
little.  With each stroke of her hairbrush, her teenaged
breasts jiggled deliciously.

     In the next room, her brother Raul was slowly undoing
the belt in his Levis as he watched his nearly naked older
sister on the color TV in his bedroom brush her hair.  He may
be only 15, but he was an electronics whiz.  He was failing
English and History at school, but electronics and computers
and math came to him like he was born to them.  Now, with his
jeans and underwear already down at his ankles, his teenaged
cock already surging with the excitement of seeing his older
sister naked for the first time, Raul gripped his young cock
firmly and began to pump the length of it.

     The soft sound of light rock was drifting in Maria's
bedroom as she brushed her wavy brown hair.  She was studying
her hair as she brushed it, wondering if it was time to
change the style.  Or does it look better this way, she asked
herself.  Then her mind drifted to the school play that was
coming up ("Our Town") and if she should audition for it.
She had never been in a play and wondered if she could handle
it, performing before hundreds of people.  Would she get too
embarrassed?  Would she forget her lines?  Would she . . .

     Then her eyes drifted to the picture of her father as a
boy picking artichokes in a field somewhere with his parents.
She didn't know why, but it was her favorite photograph.  She
stuck it in the frame of her dresser mirror so she'd see it
everyday.  "Boy, dad," she thought to herself, "You've sure
come a long way."  She couldn't even remotely imagine living
in the squalid shack her father grew up in; not with a red
Ferrari sitting in the garage right now.

     Raul's young cock was about to explode when he took his
hand away from it.  He moved closer to the TV and pushed his
cock forward, flexing the firm muscles of his smooth young
ass.  He let the surging tip of his reddened cock touch his
sister's image on the screen, then began to move it up on
down as if caressing her with it.  "Do you like that, Maria?"
he breathed.  "Do you like my dick?"

     KNOCK!  KNOCK!

     "Raul, hurry up!" his mother yelled outside his bedroom
door.  "You'll be late for school again."

     His cock immediately went soft at the rude interruption.
He stuffed it back into his jeans as he answered, "Yeah,
o-okay, mom.  I-I'll be right down."  He wondered if she
could hear the zipper of his pants closing up.

     "I've left your lunch on the counter."

     As he watched his sister's nearly naked image on the
screen and listened to his mother's voice, he thought of how
all strange and new it was to him.  It was something secret,
something exciting, something only he knew existed.

     "Raul?"

     He quickly switched off the TV.  "Yes, mom?"

     "Your lunch is on the counter."

     "Okay, thanks!" he answered, then pressed the button
that turned off the cameras in the heating ducts.  He put on
his jacket, grabbed his books, then headed out his bedroom,
expecting to find his mother there, but finding she'd already
gone back downstairs.  As he walked by Maria's closed bedroom
door, he paused there a moment, thinking of his nearly naked
older sister just beyond the door.  Oh, well, time for more
of that later, he thought to himself, then ran down to the
kitchen, grabbed his brown bad lunch, and headed out the
door. . .


                   *******************



     This first seemingly innocent act of a younger brother
spying on his older sister in the Fuentes family was only the
beginning of a long and intertwined series of events that
would come to test the love they had for each other and each
one's individual capacity for embarrassment and humiliation.
But their story really begins in the artichoke fields of the
Salinas Valley, so we must begin there if we are to give this
true story its just due.


                   *******************


     The Fuentes family was an American dream come true.  The
father of the family, Francisco, was the son of farm workers
who had labored all their lives in the Salinas Valley in
California to provide for their large family.  They had come
from Mexico with no skills and speaking little English, but
chose the hard life in America to the even harder life in
Mexico.

     Francisco was exceptionally bright as a boy.  He had
done very well in school, winning several scholarships to
college.  His strongest area was science, so it was natural
for him to choose medicine as a career.  After earning his
B.S in Chemistry at San Francisco State University, he went
on to graduate with honors from the Medical School at UCLA.

     Now, several years later, he's developed his surgical
practice into a thriving clinic in Los Altos Hills.  Money,
he is proud to say, is no longer a worry for him.  His house
is custom-built and overlooks the valley below.  His four-car
garage houses two world-class sports cars, a Limited Edition
Jeep Cherokee, and a used Toyota Celica that his oldest
daughter, Maria, had pleaded for:  "But, dad, it's so CUTE!"

     But his greatest treasure was his family.  Francisco was
reared to believe that family comes first above all else --
above career, above pleasure, above everything.  Without your
family, his parents had taught him, you have nothing.  You
must love your family, respect your family, and be loyal to
your family, they had told him.  And he believed them.  He
knew deep down that they were right.  They may be immigrants
with little skill and even less comprehension of English, but
they knew what the secret of life is.  And they had lived by
it.

     Francisco's wife Lupe was 8 years younger than him.  She
had met her future husband at UCLA when she was working on
her MBA and he was struggling in medical school.  His good
looks, intelligence, and simple charm had captivated Lupe and
swept her away with him.  Loving each other was easy for him
and her, so easy that it seemed almost natural that they get
married, which they did.

     Sixteen year later, the Fuentes family has become very
successful -- and very large!  Maria, 16, is their oldest
daughter.  They have only one son, Raul.  He's 15.  Their
other two daughters are Jessica, 13, and Christine, 10.  Each
of the children is very bright, and they have all inherited
the good looks of their parents.  Exceptional looks, in fact.


                          Chapter 2

                          "Jessica"



     Thirteen-year-old Jessica Fuentes was in her bedroom looking at the book
report she had completed in haste last night when her brother Raul's slamming
of the front door startled her as he left for school.  "Oh, I wish he wouldn't
do that!" she sighed to herself.  She was already a little cranky from not
enough sleep staying up late to finish her report, so she didn't need any
slamming doors today.

     With her schoolbooks and papers all in order, Jessica just had time to
take a quick shower and dress before leaving on the long bike ride to school. 
She liked to ride her bike to school because she was an independent young girl
who preferred to do things her way.  She didn't like the idea of mom or dad
dropping her off in front of all the other kids at the junior high (even on
rainy days), and she would not be caught dead on the schoolbus ("It's just not
cool").  But, above all, Jessica felt free on her bike; she didn't have to
adhere to a rigid schedule nor to anyone else's demands.  She could do what she
wanted, go where she wanted.

     Grabbing a towel from her linen closet, her large nylon comb from atop her
dresser, and a fresh change of underwear, she headed to the girls' bathroom at
the end of the hall. There were three bathrooms in the large house: one the
three girls shared, one Raul used, and a master that was part of the large
bedroom of Francisco and Lupe's.  And each child had their own bedroom.

     Jessica got the shower running at the right temperature and began to take
off her clothes.  She had on a white cotton nightshirt with the San Francisco
Forty Niners' football team logo and a big scarlet number "16" on it.  Across
the upper back, also in scarlet, in big block letters was the name "MONTANA." 
The nightshirt went down to about her knees and had half sleeves.  She reached
down to grab the hem of her shirt, then began pulling it up, over her head, and
off.  She pushed her blue cotton bikini panties down, stepped out of them
quickly, then got in the shower.

     As Raul would find out later firsthand, his thirteen- year-old sister
Jessica had an exceptional body.  She had begun puberty a year earlier than her
older sister Maria, at 10, and 3 years of development had rounded and curved
little Jessica's body very nicely.  She was lithe and smooth, toned and fit. 
All her years of bikeriding had paid off well, firming her thighs and calves..
and giving her a very wonderful little butt.  It was round and firm and
smooth, and stood up high and out.  It seemed meant to be fondled and spanked. 
As her physical education teacher, Miss Paulson, would later find out,
Jessica's young ass was simply sculpted perfection.

     Steam was quickly building up in the bathroom as the warm water continued
to rain down on little Jessica.  She held her face up to the warm falling
spray, closed her eyes and brushed her wet hair back with both hands.  As she
did so, her tiny breasts rose and stood out.  They were small and round --
about the size of her fists -- and the little brown nipples pointed slightly
up.  She was proud of her breasts; she knew they were nicely shaped and a
little bigger than most girls of 13.  But she was even more proud of her butt.
She knew that guys looked at her -- even men, sometimes -- and she knew why. 
Sometimes she didn't like it.  But most times she did.  Even though she was
still just a young girl, she already found out that a woman with looks and a
great body was a very powerful woman, indeed.  She didn't really know why that
was so; she just knew it to be true.

     Small rivulets of water ran happily down Jessica's firm, young body as she
shampooed her dark brown hair.  Her hair was short and wavy, which fitted her
because she was just coming out of the tomboy stage.  But with the changing of
her hormones these last few months, her mind was changing too. "Maybe I should
let it grow longer," she'd ask herself.  "It look nice if it were long like
mom's and Maria's."  She thought about it again this time as she showered,
while white bubbles of shampoo foam slid down the small of her back and finally
onto her sweet white buttocks .  . . stopping there . . . lingering.  Between
her slightly pointed breasts, other bubbles of white foam travelled down . . . 
across her smooth taut tummy . . .  encircling her tiny bellybutton . . .  and
finally catching in the small dark curls of her pubic hair. She brought her
small hands down to her tummy to wipe the soap away.  Then to her thighs.  Then
around behind to her round little ass.  She bent and wiggled and turned, until
she was sure that she was completely sqeaky clean.

     Jessica wanted to stay in the warm shower for a little while longer, but
she knew she was already late for school. So she turned the water off and
stepped out of the shower. As she rubbed her soft body dry with the fresh towel
she'd brought, she thought about the book report she so hastily put together
late last night.  "Oh, I hope Mr. Garza likes it," she prayed to herself.  "I
need to pass his history class or I can't go on to 8th grade next year.  I just
couldn't face mom and dad if that happened..."

    And she was right.  Lupe and Francisco would be livid if Jessica had to be
kept back a year.  As a Fuentes, she was expected to do well in school.  After
all, her parents were both accomplished intellectuals themselves, as was her
oldest sister, Maria.  But Jessica was just an average student with a history
of C's and (sometimes) B's.  "Oh, you'll do better next year," her parents
always told her.  But she knew she was already doing the best she could -- and
she resented her parents for not realizing that.  Sometimes she even felt they
loved Maria more because she was so bright.

     Jessica's stomach felt strange now, like it was tied up in knots.  She
stepped into her bikini panties, slipped on her 34-B bra, wrapped the bath
towel around her, and headed down the hall to her room.  Before even getting
dressed, she reread again the book report she'd written last night.  It sounded
different now, not what she really wanted to say in it.  It was all she had,
though, and there was no time to rewrite it.  All she could do was hope that
Mr. Garza would like it after all.