Spying on people is a laborious task, especially when it is done properly. I got up early on Monday morning to watch the Martinez family begin there day; Mr Martinez left first for his consultancy job, followed by the classy looking Mrs Martinez driving Maria and two younger boys to school. Using their phone numbers I tapped into Maria and her mother's respective voice-mail accounts, and accessed the source code embedded in their SIM cards, giving me the ability to block or redirect phone calls made to particular numbers. I also broke into the Martinez family home to inspect their alarm system and the contents of their bathroom waste bin. There were no bloody tampons or pads, but there was a receipt for a new box of tampons dated just over a week previously. Using this information I had a rough idea of their ovulation cycles.
I also kept in contact with Maria, playing the part of stand-in boyfriend, who surprised me by inviting me to stay over at her house on Friday night. Her father would be leaving in the morning for San Francisco and would be away all weekend, and her mother would be working late also. Not only would Maria save me the trouble of breaking into her house, but I could nail both mother and daughter in one night. Better still, Maria was forbidden to have any guests over without her parents' permission, so one visitor was the maximum she could get away with. The coincidental timing was almost too good to be true. Maria's two brothers would be the only other males in the house, certainly a risk, but an acceptable one given that they were only fifteen and twelve. I readily accepted Maria's invitation.
***
I had my nap in the late afternoon before meeting Maria in the early evening. She met me at the door in a backless party dress with hoop earrings and high heels, looking very pleased to see me. She looked like a model instead of the 18 year old, teenage princess that she was, and I went instantly hard at the sight of this sexy young Latina.
"About time you got here," she said with a sultry grin, "come inside." 'Yes please' I thought, following her into the house. It wasn't nearly as big as the Ziegler home but it was still worth a few million on the property market. I followed Maria up a grandly carpeted staircase and down a hallway to her bedroom. Having let myself into the house earlier that week, I had already been down this hallway before and, as a consequence, already knew the layout. Her parents' room was directly opposite hers, with a bathroom at their end of the hallway and her brothers' bedrooms at the other end of the house who shared their own bathroom. My targets were at one end and my obstacles were at the other end.
Maria ushered me into a room half the size of Zoë's Ziegler's bedroom but almost identical in layout. There was a queen sized bed in the middle with wardrobes and dressers lining the walls like adoring subjects. Piles of clothes were scattered across the floor and the aroma of a freshly delivered pizza bathed the room. Maria gave me some pizza and illegally helped herself to a beer, tossing one to me as well.
"Mom won't be back until one or two in the morning," Maria informed me, "and Jorge and Juan will wear themselves out playing video games, so it's just you and me tonight."
"Good to know," I smiled in anticipation, downing half my beer, "how come Zoë can't make it?" I enquired casually.
"She's been grounded," Maria replied, not sounding terribly disappointed, "ditching her community-volunteer work to go bowling. Like her mom didn't see that coming. She could sneak out, though."
"Won't her mom see her on camera?" I asked in my fake American accent. Maria snorted.
"They're all fake," she said, finishing off her beer, "they're just for show, to make people think they're being recorded. Still, they haven't been robbed yet, so it must work." I thanked god for gossipy teenagers and the valuable cats they idly released from their bags, "but she's probably too scared of her mom to try. Kat can be a mean bitch when she wants to be."
"She looks like a hard-ass." I remarked, my mind briefly going through a list of other adjectives that could be applied to Katrina's rear.
"She is, that woman has one hell of a temper," Maria continued to expound with typical teenage enthusiasm, "When Zoë told her she wanted to take a year out instead of going straight to college, she actually threw a vase at the wall. She only calmed down when Zoë promised to do community service of some kind over the summer. Now she's gone and broken her promise."
"Why doesn't she want to go to college?" I pressed, determined to mine this seam for every detail it was worth.
"I think she's just lazy and doesn't want the pressure," Maria answered bluntly, helping herself to more pizza, "she's just like me. That's probably why we're best friends."
"That would explain the vibrator I saw." I remarked casually, finishing my beer.
"Oh, that's hers, not mine." Maria pointed out hurriedly, "but yeah, we've had some lesbian adventures together."
"She doesn't like boys?" I asked.
"Oh, she loves boys," Maria replied, "she's just never been able to get one. I don't wanna trash talk her, but her attitude to sex is totally fucked up. She got her cunt pierced as well as her belly, which, IMHO, is one of the sluttiest places to get pierced. But she doesn't want her cherry popped until she's in a 'deep' and 'committed' relationship with some knight in white. She simply can't make up her mind about it."
My mind was taking Maria's thoughts about her best friend with a pinch of salt, but my body was charged with arousal. A teenage virgin with belly AND pussy piercings; this was probably too good to be true, but still worth fantasising about until I could find out for myself. Apparently I was fantasising about it a little too much.
"Are you getting hard from this?" she demanded, feigning disapproval. I shifted a little in a futile effort to conceal my boner.
"A little bit, yeah," I admitted.
"Whose pussy are you thinking about? Hers," Maria uncrossed her legs, displaying her lack of panties "or mine?" I put down my food and marched over to her with masculine determination. She yelped as I swept her off her feet and planted her on a dresser, fiddling with my trousers to release my raging hard-on.
