Before any nit picking computer experts jump down my throat, I would like to point out that my knowledge of modern technology is about on a par with William the Conqueror's knowledge of nuclear physics. I do not know if a device such as that described in this tale actually exists, or is even possible, but hey, it fits in with the story.
It was Sunday evening, and nineteen year old Tony Jenkins was not in the best of moods. He had spent two back breaking days helping his family move into their new home, and he wasn't too pleased at being stuck with the smallest bedroom. At least his parents said it was because he was the youngest. As far as he was concerned the truth was that Antonia, his twenty two year old sister, always got her way because she could twist their dad around her finger, so she was given first choice. Admittedly his was the only room with a computer desk built in by the previous owners, but that was small compensation. Besides, it wasn't exactly in the ideal position, because whenever the door swung open it banged against the end. On reflection though, it wasn't such a bad idea. It meant he would have plenty of warning, so he could click out if anyone came in at an inconvenient moment.
Pragmatically accepting what he couldn't change, he made his bed and put away the rest of his clothes, before setting up his sound system and computer. Crawling under his desk to connect everything up he spotted a wide flat box screwed firmly to the underside next to the wall. By the light on his cell he examined the unfamiliar device, wondering why it was located in such an unusual place. Obviously it wasn't meant to be seen, but why? Four short leads were plugged into a socket on the wall, and there was a row of USB ports on the front edge, all but one covered with cobwebs, so it must have been there for some time.
Tony knew just about enough to know it was some kind of router or gateway, but it was way too sophisticated for him to fathom. Digging into his box of odds and ends he took out a cable, and connected the box to his computer and booted up. The screen lit up and he read the small notice in the bottom right corner. 'New hardware detected', followed by 'Searching for drivers'. After going through all the annoying bullshit that precedes installing new software, he finally brought up a menu. Under the heading 'Location' was a column of boxes, in which 'Door 1, Light 1, Door 2, Light 2' had been typed. Alongside were more headings, 'Zoom', 'Sound', and 'Record'. Apparently the new hardware was some form of security surveillance, which would explain why the box was concealed under the desk. If burglars couldn't see it, they couldn't disable it. He was about to click the first icon when his mother called him for dinner, so he shut everything down and went to eat.
After dinner Antonia changed and went out for the evening, and Tony watched TV with his parents for a couple of hours.
Around ten o'clock he went to his room and logged on, bringing up the new program, and when he clicked on the first icon his jaw dropped. He had no idea what he expected to see, but it sure as hell hadn't been the master bedroom. 'Door 1' obviously referred to the bedroom door, and he was looking from the foot of his parents' bed to the pillows. 'Light 1' showed a view of the bed from above, from which he figured the camera must be concealed in a light fitting. Whoever had set up this system clearly had a taste for voyeurism. It could only be hoped that the old occupants of the room were more worth looking at than the new. Tony loved his parents to bits, but not even the most charitable could call them a handsome couple. His father might be described by some as 'ruggedly attractive', but the best that could be said of his mother was that she was 'homely'. The truth was Tony had difficulty even thinking of her as female, let alone as a woman. Her choice of clothing didn't exactly help either.
Marina had come with her parents and two brothers from southern Europe as a moderately attractive and generously bosomed teenager. Her father had quickly found work in the construction industry, and six months later he brought home Marty Jenkins, a young apprentice bricklayer. As he introduced him to his family, he spoke sternly in what little English he had managed to learn. "You good my Marina OK? She good girl. No like girl dis country. She no having boy."
Although he was far from handsome, there was something about Marty that appealed to the object of her father's adoration. With her parents' permission, and on the condition he brought her home before nine thirty pm, they spent the following Saturday window shopping and wandering around hand in hand, content with each other's company, but unable to converse due to the language barrier. She had scarcely left the house in the six months since she had first arrived, because after growing up in a tiny village where she knew everyone, the city streets thronged with uncaring strangers was frightening so she was relieved when, around seven thirty, he steered her towards his home. He conducted her through every room in the house, making it clear that they were alone. Picking up a framed photograph of three people, he held it out.
"Mom, Dad and me."
Thinking she understood she smiled as she pointed. "Mama? Papa? Me?"
With a gentle laugh he shook his head. "No. Mom – Mama, Dad – Papa," then pointing to his chest, "Me." He smiled at the baffled look on her face, then tried another tack. Pointing again to himself, he said "Me – Marty." Then to her, "You – Marina."
She thought for a moment, then her face lit up. Taking his hand she pressed it against his chest. "You? – Marty?" He nodded, and she pressed his hand to her own chest. "Me? - Marina?"
Although he understood that her gesture had been perfectly innocent, he swallowed a sudden lump in his throat and nodded again.
She clapped in delight and beamed at him, proud that she had learned her first two words of English. Taking his face in his hands, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him chastely on the lips.
He returned her smile automatically, but his mind was on how wonderful her breast had felt against his palm. Hesitantly he leaned closer and gave her an equally chaste kiss, and when she returned it he laid his hand on her breast.
Marina didn't flinch. She had known this would happen one day. Her Mama had told her often that the time would come when her man would touch her, because that was what he was supposed to do, and that she should let him because that was what she was supposed to do. True she had known Marty for only a few days, but from the moment they first met, in her heart she had been certain that he was her man, so for him to put his hand on her breast was the way it should be. What made it even more right was that she liked his touch. She sighed happily as he squeezed and fondled the soft flesh through her clothing, then it seemed to her to be the most natural thing in the world to follow him as he took her hand and led her to his room.
He had felt her boobs, so it made sense to her that he would want to look at them, and she could only pray that he liked what he saw. She watched his face intently as he took off her blouse, then reached round to unhook her bra. He didn't see the smile that lit her face when his eyes widened, as he became the first man to look at her large firm young breasts with their wide brown tips. Her nipples stiffened and tingled under the gentle rasping caress of his work roughened hands, and when the tingling spread lower, she knew she wanted him to touch her down there too. She was well aware what would surely follow if he did, but the warm spreading moistness told her she was ready, so she parted her legs, hoping he would respond to the unspoken invitation.
He lowered his head to take her nipple between his lips, spreading the fire in her loins, and she gasped as his fingers touched her pussy through her panties. His face fell when she pulled away abruptly, but she merely smiled, and hooking her thumbs in the waistbands of her skirt and panties, she pushed both garments down in one motion. Then she was sitting on the bed, watching nervously as he undressed. His moved his eyes downward, and she pressed her thighs together momentarily, then reminded herself that a woman was supposed to let her man look at her there. Her own gaze was drawn to his manhood, standing out hard and proud from its wiry nest, and her legs parted of their own accord. She tried to still the pounding in her chest, catching her breath and holding it as his hand came closer to her virgin pussy.
His touch on her clitoris was almost like an electric shock, stoking and fuelling the fires within her, and she lay back, open and inviting. She gasped at the unexpected pain as he entered her, and then he was inside her, moving slowly but insistently. Suddenly she was clinging to him, offering her nipples to his mouth and thrusting up to meet him. The intensity of her orgasm took them both by surprise, and his mouth was against hers, whispering words she didn't know, but nonetheless understood as she soared above the clouds. She knew when he came inside her, adding his wetness to her own, and she tried to capture him, tried to keep him in her for eternity, crying out in despair as he finally withdrew.
Her father was waiting at the door, staring at his watch when Marty delivered her to her home, minutes before the required time. Instantly Marina saw in her father's face that he knew. She had no idea how, but he knew, and she braced herself for the expected tirade. Instead he took her hand and calmly placed it in Marty's, nodding as though in his mind everything was settled. Escorting Marty to the door, he shook his hand. "You good boy. My Marina happy."
From then on, whenever Marty visited, her father took pains to ensure the family gave them time to be alone together, although as the months passed he kept a careful watch on her waistline. When they weren't busy fucking, Marty found himself in the unaccustomed role of teacher, helping the whole family to adjust to their new language.
Six months passed, and a week after Marty completed his apprenticeship they tied the knot. At the wedding, his new father in law seemed mildly disappointed that his daughter wasn't pregnant, and although they had never used protection, mainly because Marina didn't like to, it was another five months before she conceived. In due course she gave birth to Antonia, followed three years later by Tony. By the time his son arrived on the scene, Marty had started his own construction business, and things were really looking up. Married life definitely agreed with both of them, and from the day they moved into their own home a few weeks after the wedding, Marina seemed to be insatiable, even more so during each of her pregnancies. Except for when they visited her parents to show off their new grandchildren, she rarely passed up an opportunity to fuck, lustily and often loudly.
As her looks faded and her body thickened with approaching middle age, Marina began to adopt the dress sense, or lack of it, of her mother, loose peasant style dresses, all concealing and voluminous. Her husband didn't like it much, but since her sexual appetite remained undiminished, he saw no reason to complain.
