The Dominican pushed back the thorn branches to see the mountain top loom directly in front of him.� He had been thirteen days on the trail, plodding patiently through swamp, jungle, bramble, storm, and fire�� He arrived alone. His Indian guide and catechumen had died fighting off one of the feral cats that so infested the region.� �That mountain, away over there� had finally become �this mountain, here�, and in the name of the victorious Christ and His Holy Mother, he prepared to descend it.
He knelt at the peak of the mountain, at the border of the encomienda of Don Rodolfo Nieves, and said his morning prayers, finishing with a novena to the Holy Virgin for protection.� Now that he had arrived, he had seen that the mountain would be an arduous climb in this enervating heat.� His Excellency, the Archbishop, had entrusted a great and dangerous work to him, and he had not come so far, at such a price, to surrender his charge because of a difficult climb.
�Don Rodolfo Nieves, a knight of flawless morals and unquestioned orthodoxy, a faithful son of the Church, had been given charge of this district, and of the thousands of benighted Indian souls who dwelt therein.� It was his responsibility, his sacred duty before God and his King; to clear the land, to set the Indians to gainful labor, to build churches and instruct the Indians in the most holy Catholic faith.� Yet the report had come to the Archbishop that Don Rodolfo Nieves and his brother, Don Humberto, had fallen into the most abysmal and damnable idolatry.� Not only had these knights of the realm fallen into idolatry themselves, but they were encouraging it throughout the Crown lands entrusted to them.
This had to stop.
Even so, the Dominican had to admit that the lands entrusted to the brothers Nieves were remarkably fertile.� From his vantage point on the mountaintop, the Dominican could smell the lush growth on the plateau below.� Everywhere he looked, he saw the signs of undeniable industry � tilled fields green with Indian corn and squash, forests bordered with thriving settlements, smoke rising from distant villages.� The temptations of plenty were sometimes severer than the temptations of want.� The Dominican had seen other sons of the faith become indolent and careless in this rich land � coupling with the native women, enslaving the men, ignoring their religious training � but he had never heard of a total reversion to rank idolatry.
As he stumbled down the steep face of the mountain, the Dominican breathed in the deep moist air around him.� Flowers grew in profusion around him, and filled the air with a heady scent.� He trudged along what appeared to be a path through the lush growth until it joined a broad thoroughfare winding through cultivated lands and villages.�
He passed dozens of natives hurrying busily about on errands of their own.� Few glanced in his direction and none greeted him.� None of the natives crossed themselves as they should have.� Eventually, he stopped one of them, a young man, and asked him which way it was to the hacienda of Don Rodolfo. The Indian answered him in contemptible Spanish.� �Don Rodolfo doesn�t have a hacienda anymore.� It belongs to Do�a Ixchil, la tetona dulce.��
The Dominican crossed himself.� He had heard of the goddess Ixchil and her bloodthirsty sister Ixchan, twin demonesses of the chief superstition of this region.� Some of these parts were more resistant to the Holy Faith than others, and those regions where the cult of Ixchil and Ixchan had flourished before the Conquest were the areas where the missionaries had the hardest time baptizing, catechizing, or even getting the people to come to the mission churches for Mass.
La Tetona Dulce, as Ixchil was referred to in Spanish, was always represented as a beautiful, rounded Indian woman with an exuberant bosom.� Her sphere was growth, fertility, childbirth, agriculture, and procreation.� Her older sister, Ixchan, La Tetona Brava, was a warrior goddess of ferocious aspect, no less well-endowed than her sister, but taller and fiercer.� Her responsibility was to protect her devotees and revenge them upon their enemies.� Control of the storms and of the surrounding volcanoes was also attributed to her.
Shivering against a sudden shower that overtook him on the road, the Dominican pulled his cassock more closely about him.� He hoped to arrive at the hacienda of Don Rodolfo before nightfall, but now it appeared he would have to spend the night in this devil-haunted forest. �
The next morning dawned hot and clear.� The Dominican found Don Rodolfo�s hacienda abandoned, but not in decay.� There were votive offerings of fruit, meat, and liquor on the doorstep, and the Dominican grabbed his crucifix and pushed the door open�
�So, Mirandita, what time is your cousin getting here?�� Lolo leaned against the wall of the bus depot, idly brushing his nails against his jacket.
�Five o� clock is when the bus is due, but she could have been held up at the border, at Nogales.�� I shifted in my seat.� It was hot in the Phoenix bus station and being sent by my family to pick up my little cousin Mina in the scorching August sun when I could have been hanging out with the guys at the pool or at the park did nothing to improve my mood.
Richard tried to snake his arm around the back of my chair, but I twisted slightly to discourage him.� He pulled it back as if I had shocked him, but he pretended not to notice.� �She�s coming up from Mexico on the bus?� he asked disbelievingly.� �That�s got to be uncomfortable as hell.�
I snorted.� �We�re Salvadoran, Richard.�� She�s already crossed from Salvador into Guatemala, then from Guatemala into Mexico at Tapachula.�� I gathered up my waist-length raven-black hair and secured it on top of my head under my bandanna.� �Just like I did seven years ago.� I wasn�t much older than Mina when I came up.�
�Yeah, but you came up with your mom and your brother!��� Richard added.� �Mina�s coming up by herself.� Just how old is she?�
�Let�s see now.� I left when I was sixteen, and Mina was nine then��
�Eight�, corrected my cousin Hippolito, Mina�s brother.� �She was five the year I came up here with your Pop, but I�ve sent her a card every year for her cumplea�os.� She�s turned fifteen in April.���� Hippolito fished a Marlboro out of his chest pocket and moved towards the door to smoke it.� Lolo, his brother Rodolfo, and Richard joined him, reluctant to leave the air conditioned bus station.
I leaned back against the chair and watched the second hand crawl across the face of the depot clock.� It was 4:53pm, the sun was beginning to peek in through the skylights, and I began to fidget.� There was a roar outside, and I jumped up to see if it was Mina�s bus.� It was the Flagstaff bus, ten minutes behind schedule.� It pulled into an empty bay and disgorged its passengers onto the blazing asphalt.
The boys rumbled back in, discussing an upcoming Diamondbacks game, and I heard another bus roar in.� This one said �Tucson� on the front, and it pulled right in alongside the other.� We rushed outside into the furnace-hot air.
The Tucson passengers began to disembark; a couple of blue-haired ladies on their way to Las Vegas, a soldier, an older man in a tank top.
�What do you think she looks like now?�� Richard asked.
�I don�t know.�� I responded.� �Seven years ago she was a tiny dark little thing with great big eyes that followed me everywhere.� She�s probably a se�orita by now, a village girl.� Look out for a young girl in a white cotton shirt and a shawl.�
A blisteringly beautiful mahogany-skinned girl dismounted the bus.� She was about my height, five-seven, which is tall enough for a Latina.� Her thick, straight, crow-wing-black hair fell past her waist nearly to her knees, cut in short bangs over a pair of flawlessly arched brows and luminously black, almond-shaped eyes set in a heart-shaped, broad face with perilously high cheekbones.� Her nose was long, a little too narrow for her face, but not disagreeably so. Her mouth was small and chiseled by comparison, but with such voluptuous and prominent lips that it gave her whole face a petulant pout.�
A pair of Sergio Valente stretch jeans, which she must have been sewn into, valiantly resisted bursting at the seams as she stepped down.� Black high-heeled lace-up boots and a severely overstretched white cotton top with flared sleeves and a scoop neck completed her outfit.
Her ponderous bust filled the bus landing.� I swear if she had turned either to the left or the right, she would have slapped herself against one of the metal sides.� Her boobs started just under her chin, thrust themselves out aggressively on either side of her rib cage, and fell nearly to her navel.� As she descended the short flight of stairs to the pavement, they swayed gently but insistently under her shirt like seaweed floating on an ocean wave.� At any moment, I expected one or both of her prominent breasts to peek out from her indolent, low cut blouse.
Stepping out into the sun, the dark, big-breasted girl turned, revealing a breathtaking profile.� Her spectacular bosom hung suspended like a shelf over the pavement, casting a visible shadow to the tops of her knees.
Three young men, blond haired, blue-eyed Americans, emerged from the bowel of the bus into the sunlight, blinking, each of them carrying a huge duffle bag.� They deposited their burdens at the feet of the beautiful girl, who gave them each a quick peck on the cheek before they disappeared, waving goodbye to her.
�Santa Maria� ejaculated Lolo, crossing himself.� �Look at those chichotas!�� You wish you could grow a pair like that, don�t you, Miranda?� I wonder what kind of fertilizer she used.�
I shoved an elbow into his ribs, hard.� �The same one you used for your mouth, but forgot to put on your brain, cholo verde!�� I snapped back.
Other passengers continued to push around either side of the dark-skinned lovely.� We continued to watch for my baby cousin until the beauty turned in our direction and lit up.
�Eeeeee!� Hippolito!� Hermanito!�� She screamed.� Throwing her arms wide, she ran towards us.� Her massive breasts flew to either side, then rushed together again as she ran, and I saw with horror that they were completely unencumbered by any support garment.� Once again, I feared that she would inadvertently expose herself.�
So, this was my �little� cousin Mina.� She threw herself around Hippolito and nearly buried him in the chasm between her vast breasts.�
�Te has crecido, ni�a� Hippolito managed to get out.� �You�ve grown.�
Mina beamed proudly.� �So you�ve noticed, have you?� she crowed, in nearly-unaccented English, hoisting as much of the sides of her big breasts as she could manage with both hands, fingers spread wide open.� �Aren�t they great?� I want to get them bronzed!�
Lolo crossed himself again.
�Ay Mirandita!�� Mina shouted, grabbing me.� I felt the soft pressure of her big unbound boobs flow around on both sides of me, engulfing me, surrounding me, as she hugged me. I�m afraid I stiffened slightly with resentment.�� How could any girl�s breasts get that big?� Would she even feel my own little nubs?� I doubted it.� I kissed her on the cheek and smiled.� �Hola, primita� I got out.� �Welcome to the USA!�
Hippolito introduced her around.� �This is my best friend, Lolo, and his brother Rodolfo.�� He pointed out Richard.�� �This is El gringo Ricardito, who we know from the Universidad.� He wants to be a cholo so he can be Mirandita�s boyfriend, but he needs a few more plates of beans, rice, and tortillas�
Lolo and Rodolfo grabbed Mina�s bags off the pavement, but she pointed with a dainty finger at several other packages, some quite large, that the bus attendant had pulled out from the baggage compartment.� �Those are mine, too� Mina cooed in her unsettling English.� Richard and Hippolito jumped to pick up what they could.�
Even after all the boys were loaded down like pack-burros, Mina still had one large box on the ground.� Mina turned to me and smiled, indicating the box with her eyes.� I couldn�t believe the nerve of the little minx.� She had absolutely no intention of carrying the box herself!� My unbelief must have shown in my eyes, because Mina�s glorious brow darkened, her chiseled lower lip thrust out, and she glared at me.
No, princess, I thought.� I have no intention of carrying your precious box.�
Then Mina stared directly at my meager chest, smiled cruelly, and pressed her immense, pliant left breast against my arm.� Instantly I was surrounded with a lush floral aroma.� I felt all the breath go out of me as if she had punched me in the stomach.� Never had I felt so content, so peaceful.� Tingling on every nerve with pure delight, I scuttled to retrieve Mina�s box and fell in behind the others.
�Jesus, �manita�, complained Hippolito, struggling with three of Mina�s packages.� �You must have left with half of the shit in the village�.
Mina laughed.� �When I left, all I had was that bag Lolo�s carrying.�
�Unhh!� Where�d you get all this other stuff, then?�
�Oh�, she said blithely.� �People just give me things�.
The family was delighted to see Mina.� My father, my mother, my uncle Candelario, all expressed surprise and pride at how grown up she looked, although no one had the discourtesy to refer directly to her big breasts, which were her most grown-up feature of all.� Except Mama, who pinched them in disbelief.� �Que grandototas que son, ni�a!� she clucked.� ��Como esta posible esto?��� You such a big girl now.� Why you no have some support for those big things, no?�
Before the end of the afternoon, our little house was packed to the windowsills with relatives, neighbors, and the idly curious.� Someone brought a portable stereo, someone else brought an ice bucket full of longnecks, and we had a full-scale fiesta on our hands.� Naturally, the crowd was thickest wherever Mina went, and I noticed she had no trouble belting down the longnecks.� I wondered how she managed to put that past my Pop, her ever-watchful T�o Ernesto.� Then I remembered how Mina had unwillingly made me her baggage boy.
We had the extra bed made up and put into my room.� Mama thought it would be better for us to sleep together than for Mina to sleep in Elena�s empty room.� Later that night, we were staying up to unpack, and I was astounded at the quantity and richness of the outfits Mina had brought with her.� She had enough clothes for any five girls, and sixty pairs of shoes.�� Oddly, she threw more that half of what she brought in a pile on the floor.� Most of her tops and blouses ended up in the pile, but also brassieres, just dozens and dozens of brassieres.
I picked up several of Mina�s castoff bras.� They were different sizes and models.� I couldn�t have filled even the smallest of them, but even the biggest ones, the ones with the six panel cups and the shoulder straps as wide as three of my fingers, were too small for Mina to wrestle into.� Idly, I brought one of the larger ones up to my own chest and tried to imagine what it would be like to be able to fill it up, even overflow it, like Mina could.
Mina looked over at me and smirked.� I dropped the bra on the floor like it was a used tampon.� �That�s right, prima Miranda� my cousin gloated.� �Those little teensy-weensy bras don�t fit me any more.� I�m too big now.�
I looked over at Mina.� Anyone looking at the two of us would definitely think her the older by several years, but something, something about the eyes told me there was a softer and vulnerable side to my cousin, one I�d have to find and cultivate if I wanted to survive.
�How did you learn English so well?�� I asked her.
Mina laughed, and her breasts trembled lightly under her cotton top.� �Four years ago, when I was eleven, an American family came to the village to make us all Baptists.� They had a beautiful fourteen year old son, tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes.� I followed him everywhere.� All the ni�as in the village did.�
�Not only did Benson teach me English� Mina smiled wickedly.� �Benson taught me� everything else.�� Then she began to caress the sides of her big breasts softly with her palms, pressing them lightly together and creating what looked like a meter of cleavage.� �He taught me how to grow my tetaztas.�
�How can anyone teach you how to grow big boobs, silly?� You either have them or you don�t.�
Mina leaned back on her bed, and began sorting the rest of her clothes.� �That�s were you�re wrong, primita.� Any girl in our family can grow them this big.� Even you.� Benson taught me how.� Benson, and la Bruja Monica.�
�La Bruja Monica?� What did that old crazy hag tell you?� I don�t believe you.� You have to be as crazy as she is!�� I replied.
Grabbing the plunging neckline of her cotton top with both hands, Mina pulled it open slightly and shook her vast breasts out from underneath.� I sucked in my breath.� Mina�s breasts were enormous, mahogany-colored, and papaya-shaped, but much, much bigger than any fruit I had ever seen.� Each one was bigger around than my head, and Mina could easily smother me between them.�
I had never seen such large breasts before.� Each one was perfectly pear-shaped, thrusting out proudly from close to Mina�s throat, capped with stiff, arrogant, skyward-pointing nipples the size of the tips of my little finger surrounded by deep, wine-dark mounds of erectile tissue, areole, each the size of a compact disk.�
She was wearing a small pearl on a chain, obviously a gift from Abuelita for her first Communion, but the chain fell into the deep crevasse between her breasts, and I could only see it because Mina walked over and shoved her big breasts into my face.
�Do these look like the tetas of a crazy woman?� she laughed.� �Just look at your little primita!� Do you know any other girl as big as I am?� No, because I�m the biggest, and besides, I can make anyone do whatever I want with my chichotas�.
�Bragging is easy� I challenged her.
She leaned her immense left breast to within inches of my face.� It was at least as large as my head, and Mina�s deep brown areola filled my entire field of vision.� �All I have to do is spray you with one of my chichotas, and you�ll do whatever I say.�
I looked up at my little cousin, and I felt a pang of fear.� She was so big.� Her hair tumbled down over the tops of her breasts as she leaned in closer to me.� I began to believe she could do what she said.� Then she lightly grazed my face with her left nipple.�
I felt wetness just above my cheek, and immediately, the room was full of the same floral aroma I had smelled at the bus station.� I relaxed, smiling, tingling with anticipation.� I giggled.� The room began to swim around me, but I didn�t care.� I had never felt so happy and carefree before in my life.� I looked up at Mina and her enormous breasts and smiled.� I felt as if her big welcoming breasts would protect me from any harm and hurt that could ever threaten me.
�My chichotas rule!�� Mina sat up, causing her mighty breasts to sway back and forth at my eye level.� Leaning in, she found my mouth with hers and gave me a wet, sloppy, kiss.� Her huge unbound breasts brushed against my shirt, leaving fragrant wet trails.� My ecstasy increased with each touch until I was completely unthinking.� Unzipping her Sergio Valentes, she peeled them off.� Then she reclined on my bed and spread her legs apart.� Passing her arms underneath the bulk of her breasts, she opened her labia with her dainty fingers.
�Chupa mi pepita, primita!� Tu Imperatriz te lo exije!�
�Suck my clit, cousin!� Your Empress commands it!�� I dove in enthusiastically, finding her already wet with her own juices.�� Mina guided my head until my tongue found her clitoris and held me there, gently raising and lowering her pert ass as I licked her clit furiously.� Faster and faster I licked, until she began to pound her cunt against my face.� The tingling I had felt earlier built to an insistent roar as I began to feel aroused now myself.
I worked even harder at Mina�s steamy little concha, pulling the little seed of her flesh between my lips, and feeling the corresponding sensations between my own thighs.� Everything Mina was feeling, I also felt.� I began rocking back and forth as my desire built.�
Tasting Mina�s salty little pepa lightly between my teeth, I nibbled it, and kept licking at it until we both exploded.�� I thought my neck would snap. My orgasm began to ebb away like a wave rushing back to the ocean after crashing mightily against a rocky shore, and I felt aglow in every cell.� I lapped happily at Mina�s cunt as she too came back slowly to Earth, stroking my hair with her hands.
�Las salvadore�as somos putas todas, �no?� Mina laughed, still stroking my hair.� �We Salvadoran girls have sex in our blood, primita.� We just have to learn to let it out.�� How did that feel?�
Gasping for breath, I pulled myself up to stare over the tops of Mina�s breasts into the dark pools of her eyes.� �I never, ever felt desires for a woman before, but that was fantastic.� No man ever made me feel anything like that before� I replied.� �I felt everything you felt.� How did you do that?�
Mina was pulling her jeans back on.� She asked my help zipping them up, since she couldn�t even see the tops of the jeans.� I kept jostling against her breasts as I yanked and yanked on the zipper, trying to squeeze Mina�s round ass into her unyielding Sergio Valentes.� Each time I brushed against her brown nipples, the delicious floral smell filled the air, becoming stronger and stronger with each inadvertent contact.� I got so giddy I started giggling, and that set Mina to laughing as well.
�That�s a special talent these tetotas of mine have.� I don�t know where it comes from, but every time my nipple gets squeezed, some kind of liquid comes out, like stink from a skunk�s behind.� I think I�ve grown some special glands down in there somewhere.� When my tetas were little, they weren�t so powerful.� They just relaxed people, made them happy.� Now that they�re bigger, whatever it is that comes out of them seems to be getting stronger.� Sometimes, I can tell what people are thinking.� Also, I can make people do pretty much what I want.�
�I want you to have a pair of chichotas like mine, cousin. I want that so badly, but first let me tell you how I got mine.��� The house was quiet and still.� Everyone else had gone to bed, but I was still purring with the power of my little cousin�s enormous breasts.� I reclined against them gratefully and listened to Mina�s story.
�I started to grow my little pezones, little nipple buds, when I was thirteen years old, like a lot of girls in the village.� But since I was darker skinned than a lot of the other girls, you could see mine under my blouses.�� I was down at the river, washing, with four of the other girls.� Rosita Mendez started telling us she was more developed than we were, more womanly.� She bragged that didn�t have just puntitas any more, but had real tetitas.� Since she was younger than I was by a year, I told her to prove it.
Rosita unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off.� She did indeed have pointy little tetas sticking out on her chest.� All of the rest of us pulled off our shirts as well.� None of us had anything close to what Rosita had.� All of the rest of us just had dark puntitas.� �I�m the most womanly, then� Rosa crowed.� �I�ll be the first to have a galan.� You just wait and see!�� Just then Benson stepped out from the tree where he had watching.
��I know how you can make those bigger� he tells us.� Rosita and the other girls screech and pull their shirts back on.� ���Pervertido!� �Grosero!� the other girls screamed at him, running away.� Of course, I was also shocked, but at the same time, I was very curious and a little bit excited.� How could a boy make my puntitas bigger?� I turned around and looked at him, and he winked, scandalous boy!� �Meet me here at the river after school, Minita!� he shouted.� My heart beat fast all morning, waiting for school to end, then for Abuelita to finish making the tortillas.� As soon as she was through with me, I ran to the river, and Benson was waiting for me.
��I knew you�d come, Minita� he told me with another wink.� I blushed.� �You�re different than those other girls.� They�re so silly!� ��My English wasn�t so good back then, so I had a hard time understanding him.� �You really do want to make those bigger, don�t you?� he asked.� I nodded my head.� I didn�t know why I wanted my tetitas to be bigger, but I did.�
��You have to do something kind of gross, Minita� he warned me.� �Grosero, you know.� Are you still ready?� He was unzipping his pants.�
��What I have to do?� I asked him.� I was a little scared, and a little excited.� Benson was such a beautiful boy.� All the girls in the village were in love with him.� He laughed and began pulling on his verga under his pants.� �You have to let me come on them� he told me.� I didn�t know what that meant.� He pulled out his verga.� It was different than when I saw Papi�s or To�o�s.� His stood straight up.�� We both laughed at this.
��Take your shirt off, Minita!� he asked me, and before I could complain, he had his hands behind my back, unbuttoning my shirt.� He pulled it off, and my little brown puntitas were standing straight up too.� He told me to sit down, then pointed his verga right at my chest, and began fretting it like it was a banana he was trying to take the skin off.� In a minute, he had spurted his seed all over me.� He looked around to see if anyone had seen us.� He pulled his member back inside his pants and zipped himself up.� �Rub that into your titties, Minita, and watch how quickly they grow� he promised.�
�Benson�s seed was all over me, but I began to rub it in.�� After all, he had kind of raped me, so I might as well go ahead and try out what he told me to do.� While I was rubbing in his seed, I noticed that my little puntitas were tingling like crazy, and I had to rub them hard to keep them from hurting.� After I while, I noticed that more than just my puntitas were moving.� There was a little bit of a mound underneath each nipple that hadn�t been there before, just like Rosita had, just smaller.�
�The next day, I had to show Benson what he had done to me.� I was so proud.� He ��was as surprised as I was, but he agreed to try it again.� Once again, he splashed me with his seed, and once again, I rubbed it in, tingling like crazy.� This time, Benson watched, and his eyes got wide as he watched my little tiny globes grow and swell.� It was noticeable.�
�Now, I had real tetitas, even though they were still very little and pointy.� I wanted so badly for Benson to try again, but he said, no, we had to wait a while, because boys only had so much juice at one time.� So I grabbed his dick and began rubbing it myself.�
�Que puta que eres, primita� I scolded.
�Si, soy rete putona!� agreed Mina.� �Anyway, I rubbed it and rubbed it until it got stiff again.� Benson grabbed me by the shoulders and groaned, and then he shot an even bigger glob of seed on my chest than the first time.� �Liar!� Pendejo!� I screamed at him, rubbing his seed into me.� �You have a lot of seed left!�� Even while I was still growing, I made him splash me a third time.� My tetitas grew until they stuck out in little cones with the nipples pointing straight out.� I wanted to make them even bigger, so I grabbed him again, but he wrestled himself away from me, and begged me not to make him do it again�
�Now I was bigger than Rosita.� I proved it to her down at the river the next day.� She ran and gathered the other girls, even Deysi, who was fifteen, shaved her legs, and wore nylons to church.� All of them wanted to see my tetitas, which had grown so much in just a couple of days.� When I took my shirt off, I felt so proud.� The other girls touched my breasts, squeezing them to make sure they were real.� They all started giggling and laughing, and I had to put my shirt back on to make them stop.�
�After that, Benson and I met wherever we could, usually once or twice a day.� Our favorite place was in a closet in his parents� church.� Everyday, I�d show him how much I had grown.� Before long, his seed made my tetas round and full, big enough to fill my hands, and my pezones got big and smooth, and only the puntitas stood up now when I touched them.� I was so proud of them.� They were bigger now than those of all of the other girls.� I used to stay up at night just stroking them.�
�Everyone in the village noticed me getting bigger and bigger.� Boys started following me around and making rude noises.� Even the men began to stand in the doorway and watch me go by.� My breasts kept getting a little bigger every day, and they jiggled around a lot under my shirts, because Abuelita didn�t want to buy me a brassiere.� She said I was still a ni�a, not even fourteen years old yet, and that I should not be thinking about womanly things.� But I was getting more and more womanly every day.�
�Rosita came to me crying.� She said she knew why my tetas were growing.� It was because I was rubbing Benson�s seed into them.� I blushed, but I also admitted it.� Sobbing, she confessed that after she had seen me growing so quickly, she went to Benson and asked him to make hers grow as well.� Benson had tried three times, but nothing had happened.� What Benson did made her sick to her stomach, but she put up with it thinking she could get bigger and show me up, but after trying three times, she gave up in disgust.� She threw her arms around me and sobbed.� �
��It�s not fair that it only works for you.� I want mine to grow like yours� she whimpered.� She reached under my shirt and squeezed my tetas softly.� I felt a thrill run through me when she did this.� �Take off your shirt� I ordered her.� Rosita stripped off her cotton schoolgirl�s blouse and there were her tetitas that I had so envied just a short time before.� Pulling my own blouse off, I crushed my bigger, round, soft, brown tetas against her smaller, harder, pointier, lighter tetitas.� Something like a current ran between us for a short time, and then I separated from Rosita.� She was no longer crying.� �Thank you� she said.�
�I still don�t know what I did for Rosita, but she grew until she was almost as big as I was.� Horacio Benitez in the next village decided to break off with his novia and pay court to Rosita, and they married the next spring.� She was six months pregnant at the altar, and I believe she�s had two more since then.� �
�One day I surprised Benson.� He had his chipote out, and he was rubbing it, ready to make me grow, when I had an idea.� I was getting big enough now to take his capullo between my breasts, so I lifted them up to where he was standing over me.� I trapped his little head between my tetas and rubbed them together over the top of him. It didn�t take long for him to splash all over me.� He was so excited, he begged me to do it again and again, so that I sucked all of his juices onto my tetas five or six times.� I grew a lot that night.� My tetas didn�t stop growing until just before the rooster crowed the next morning, and they were the size and shape of mangoes.�
�Unfortunately, very soon after that, Benson and his family had to go back to the United States for a whole year.� I was so heartbroken.� Even though I was now one of the biggest girls in the village, I wanted them to get even bigger, so I asked Julio Perez to do the same thing for me that Benson did.� He was glad to help out, but nothing happened.� Nothing at all. Imag�nate.� So I went up to Oscar el Virolo and started rubbing my tetas against his back.� Oscar can�t see or talk, but, �ay prima mia!, he has a bolos the size of oranges and a vergaza the size of my arm.� He grunted and growled, but he shot a cup load onto my hungry tetas.�
It didn�t do any good.� My tetas didn�t get any bigger.� Even though I was as big and as womanly as the seventeen and eighteen year old girls, I wanted to make my precious tetas even bigger.�� It was like a hunger for me.� I tried it again and again with a few other boys in the village, but still, nothing.�
Curiosity piqued me, and I shifted on my cousin�s breast and looked up into her eyes.� �There are a lot of questions I have, primita� I asked her.� �Why did it happen that when Benson came on you, you grew, but when the Salvadoran boys did, nothing happened?�
��Ay Mirandita!� Mina explained.� �The answer to that is the best part of the whole story. You won�t believe what la loca Monica told me about our family.� But you�ll have to wait for the end of the story for me to tell you that!�
�Anyway, one night, just after my fourteenth birthday, Don Reynaldo, the owner of the bodega, he grabbed me, and put his hand right on top of one of my boobs. Maybe I was too proud of how big my tetas had grown, because I was wearing a very low-cut blouse to show them off.� But Don Reynaldo is fifty-four, and a grandfather.� He has no business pawing a fourteen year old girl.� �Tu me vas a hacer la cubana como lo hiciste con Juliocito�.� He threatens to tell Abuelita and the whole family what a little whore I�ve become.�
�I�m scared to death, so I let him push his hand under my shirt and grab one of my tetas, hard.� As soon as he does that, his whole place smelled like flowers, like the room does now.� �Let go of me, viejo cabr�n �I shouted at him.� He pulled his hands out from under my shirt.� �Now, go home to your wife and stay there!�� Don Reynaldo turned and walked away, like a pibe five years old.� I couldn�t believe it!� He did exactly what I told him.�
�I tried out my new power the next day.� I wore a very, very low-cut t-shirt with no bra.� My boobies were bouncing all over the place, but I didn�t care who thought I was a little whore.� I sauntered into Don Reynaldo�s bodega and demanded a bottle of his best aguardiente.� He looked at me crossly and told me to go to the Devil; he wasn�t going to be blackmailed by a little slut like me.� I walk behind the counter.� I pull one of my boobs out of my shirt and press it against his bare arm.� Something leaks out onto his arm, and right away, there�s that flowery smell again.� Don Reynaldo goes all loose and smiley, starts to giggle, and pulls a bottle of Cristal off the shelf and plops it down in front of me.�
�I can tell you, I got roaring drunk that night!� Abuelita found me stumbling around the plaza and tried to have me whipped, but I knew no one could ever do anything bad to me ever again.� My tetas wouldn�t let them.� If anyone got close enough to touch me, I�d point one of them at him, and the flower-juice would spray out, and I�d send them home.� �Prod�gio they called me, and fen�meno.�
�After that, whatever I wanted to do, I did.� Wherever I wanted to go, I went.� I just got on the bus, leaned over the driver enough to brush one of my tetas against his face or his arm, and I could ride for free.� I would go into the capital, into San Salvador, and go to the big commercial centers where all the rich kids shop.�� They were surprised to see a girl from the countryside there, but only the first time.� I brought boxes and boxes home with me; jeans, tops, dresses, shoes, all the latest fashions.� Soon, we had the best-dressed village in all Salvador.�
�Some of the women in the village began to get jealous, even though they didn�t have any trouble knocking on Abuelita�s door when I got back from the capital, picking up nice things for themselves and their children.� They started calling me bruja and hechicera behind my back, so I decided to lay low, to not use the power of my tetas so often.� When I went to the capital, I made a special point to go around to the jealous ones and ask them if they needed anything special.� I didn�t want to fight the whole village.�
�Then, not even four months ago, Benson and his family return from the United States, and what a surprise!� He brings two even more beautiful boys with him.� They are so blonde, their hair is almost the color of ice, even their eyebrows, and the little vellitos on their arms.� They are looking at me, and I can tell they think I am very, very pretty.� I am dressed like a gringa; Guess Jeans and an Abercrombie and Fitch polo shirt.�
�Minita, these are my cousins, Tom and Eric� he says.� He looks down at my tetas and sees that they haven�t grown since he left.� He laughs.� �We need to get back to work, don�t we, Minita?�� I grab him and practically drag him into my bedroom at Abuelita�s house.� Nobody there dares to tell me what to do anymore, so right in full sight of Abuelita, Abuelito, and all my relatives I throw Benson onto my bed and pull his pants down.�
�Benson�s member is already hard, pointing straight up at me.� He is ready. I want a big load.� My tetas have been waiting so long.� I pull off my Abercrombie and Fitch t-shirt and throw it onto the floor.� I am not wearing a bra, so my tetas are dangling off my chest like two warm loaves of French bread.� I carefully wrap his capullo between my boobs, and rub them back and forth and up and down.� I let my hair fall across his stomach as I am doing this, and each time his capullo peeked out at me from between the tops of my tetas, I gave it a quick kiss.�
�It didn�t take even a minute.� Benson practically drowned me.� He shot out more than Cross-eyed Oscar, and my tetas were covered from top to bottom.� I could already feel them tingling, even before his seed was cold.� It felt so good.� Benson sat up on the bed and watched them grow.� I had them in my hands, and he watched as my beautiful, beautiful tetas spilled over my palms and forced my fingers apart.�
�Not a half an hour passed after Benson had left that my tetas started to get hungry again.� It was such a funny feeling, not unlike being hungry in your stomach.� My tetas actually started to ache.� At first, I tried to ignore it, but as the afternoon wore on, the ache got worse and worse, and it wouldn�t go away.� I knew what I needed, and I went out to get it.�
�I couldn�t find Benson, but I saw Eric in the plaza.� He was walking around looking very lost, so I took him by the arm and pressed it against my breast.� �Hello.� My name is Minita.� I am a friend of Benson.� I am very happy to welcome you to our village.� �
�He was happy to see me.� The front of his pants bulged, and I began rubbing my tetas against his arm.� My shirt and his sleeve got all sticky and, before long, we were stinking all over of my special smell. Eric was laughing and patting my ass.� �Come� I told him.� �I want you to see something special down by the river.� ���
When we got to the river, I started to flirt with Eric seriously.� �Do you like my breasts, Eric?� Aren�t they beautiful, and soft, and brown?�� I slowly lifted my shirt until he could see the undersides of my tetas.� Then I lifted them just a little bit more to show him my brown nipples and how hard they were.� I nodded at his pants, and he unbuckled his belt and lowered them.� His verga was so hard, I was afraid it would rip his underwear.� We wrestled it free.�
�My shirt I had pulled up around my neck, exposing my breasts.� I lowered them slowly, as though I was coming in to kiss him, then at the last moment, I bent down and received his cock between them.� Eric groaned and began to pump his hips.� To help him along, I rubbed the shaft of his cock on both sides with my breasts, at first slowly, then faster and faster.� Eric finally arched his back, and blew his load all over the tops of my tetas, and the tingling replaced the ache I had been feeling all afternoon.�
�Eric watched in astonishment as I rubbed his seed into my breasts.� I was more concerned with my tetas than I was with him.� He could go home, or wherever he wanted, until I needed him again.� I could feel my tetas growing, swelling, getting bigger and rounder.� When I pulled my shirt back down over them, I had to pull hard to get the tail over my chest.� The shirt was so much tighter now, and my tetas pushed hard against it, trying to breathe.�
��You may go now� I commanded Eric.� �You must come when I need you, though.��
�I didn�t have to bother seducing Tom.�� Eric and Benson must have told him all about me, because he showed up at my window begging me to let him put his chipote between my tetas.� It was dark, and my boobies were beginning to ache again, so I stuck them out the window and let Tom blurt his seed all over them.� I dismissed him as I dismissed his brother, and fell asleep with my shirt off and my tetas tingling.�
�After that, I got six, seven, sometimes as many as nine or ten treatments a day, as many as I wanted.� Benson, Eric, and Tom all came as soon as I needed them.� It was as though my tetas called to them.� As soon as my tetas got hungry, and started to ache, one of the boys would show up, ready to service me, ready to give me what I needed.�
�Of course, my tetas grew like squash in the summertime.� They kept getting bigger and rounder and fuller, every day.� Sometimes I could hear them grow. I would lie in bed at night after Tom or Eric or Benson had serviced me, and listen to them.� I could feel my tetas growing.� They always felt like something was churning around, and there was a lot of tightness just under my pezones, always, like they were stretching out, trying to reach the ceiling.� Also, there was stretching around the big brown circles at the tips of my tetas, as if they were stretching out from there.� Sometimes when I lay on my back in bed, I could feel them inching down under my armpits, as they grew.�
�But they also squeaked, like when you stroke a balloon with your fingers.� They made that kind of squeak.� I would listen to them squeak at night in my bed, and feel then stretching themselves out in all directions.� I�d stay up all night listening until the squeaking stopped, then my tetas would start to ache again, and I would wait by the window until Benson, or Tom, or Eric appeared, with a new load.�
One night, I told Benson to come in to my bedroom through the window.� I stripped all my clothes off and lay down on the bed.� Grabbing his ready verga, I guided it to the space between my breasts. Even though my tetas were very big by now, they flattened out when I lay down, and Benson was surprised that I could cover his entire shaft with them.�
As he pumped, I pushed my tetas together, and this squeezed some of my flowery liquid onto his pinguite.� Almost at once I began to feel what he felt, and I groaned along with him as I mashed my tetas against his shaft.� I felt the pressure start deep in his pelotitas.� It felt so strange, just like I had a pair of them.� Then the pressure rode up the shaft until Benson and I arched our backs at the same time and his seed flooded the space between my hungry tetas. �Benson climbed back out through the window, but I sat thinking about it until Eric came the next morning, tapping at my window with my next load of seed.
�Two weeks after Benson�s return, it was obvious to everybody in the village my tetas were growing again.� Of course, I took no pains to hide them.� I was proud of them.� They were as big as any woman�s in the district.� Even the ladies who were jealous of me before called me la bella tetona and asked me to pick things up for them in the capital.��
�I never had to wait for a bus.� The bus between our village and the capital ran on my whim now.� All I had to do was visit the offices of the bus company, and spread a little of my special smell around, and the directors set it up so that the bus route started in our village and they always had a bus and driver ready any time I wanted to go into town.� �The bigger my tetas grew, the more powerful they got.� When they got big enough that I could put the back of my wrist on my ribs and could just barely touch my pezones with the tips of my fingers, I found I could sit in my bed and listen to what people were thinking.�
�It was very boring listening to the village people thinking about weather and crops, but I could also listen to what Benson, Tom, and Eric were thinking.� They thought in English, so my English started to get better very, very quickly.� All they thought about was my breasts.� They followed me around every waking hour, to the school, to the capital, to the market.� Of course, this made it very easy for me to satisfy my growing chichis when they needed to drink more gringo seed.� I became very shameless.� I could take them on the bus, leaning over one of them while he unzipped his trousers and inserted his dick between my hungry breasts.� My tetas were so big that the passengers sitting around never saw anything.�
�My chichis grew and grew.� It was hard to find shirts that would fit well. Nosotras las salvadore�as, we may be curvier than the gringas, but we�re smaller too.� I liked polos that had deep, plunging necklines.� These made it easy to pull out my chichis quickly if I needed to spray somebody or if they were aching and needing seed.� Since I had to feed them seven to fifteen times a day, I didn�t bother wearing a brassiere.� I didn�t really need one, because my tetazas, even though they were so big, they were very high on my chest and didn�t sag or droop at all.� With my low cut t-shirts, I could pull my chichis out at any time, stick one of my boys� vergitas between them, and feed them.�
�Shirts that normal girls could wear were impossible for me to wrestle into.� My tetazas were just too big now.� The cloth could only stretch so far.� The normal sized t-shirts squeezed my chichis badly so that all of me pushed up through the neckline.� If I wore shirts for very fat girls, they didn�t squeeze me on top, but I had to fold all that fabric together and tuck it into my jeans.�
�Also, as my tetazas grew, they became hungrier.� Each time I fed them, they didn�t seem to grow that much.� Maybe they did grow, but when they were smaller, you could tell that they were growing.��� My three boys couldn�t produce enough seed for my hungry chichotas, so I had to go out hunting.� It wasn�t hard to find gringos in the capital, and it wasn�t hard to harvest them once I found them, and when I returned, my three loyal boys were ready to service me.�
�My chichotas kept getting bigger and more demanding.� Now it was impossible to keep them from aching unless all two or three boys splattered me at the same time.� The odd thing was, though, the bigger my tetazas got, the more interesting things became.� Gardens and fields in the village grew like they were trying to grow seven years in one.� The farmers were working day and night, and the depositos were loaded down with food.� Also, the cows, the goats, and the pigs were always pregnant, and never miscarried.� When the calves and the shoats were born, there was abundant food for them, and they grew like crazy.�
�The women in the villages around the district all became pregnant at the same time as well.� When I left, there wasn�t a single woman between fourteen and forty-nine who wasn�t hauling her panza around.� My tetazas got the credit for the sudden prosperity and fertility of our district, and small offerings of carrots, fruit, goat meat, and aguardiente started showing up on Abuelita�s doorstep.� Nevertheless, it was getting harder and harder to keep my chichotas well-fed, and they ached most of the time now.�
�Benson�s father was growing concerned about his son�s and his nephews� attachment to me.� Not that I blamed him.� I could read his mind at times, and he thought I was a pretty hot little puta.� But he didn�t want his blond-haired, blue-eyed all-American boys banging away on a dark little Salvadoran savage, no matter how outrageous my figure was getting.�
�One night, I gathered Benson, Eric, and Tom together in their father�s church, and we made our plans.� I couldn�t make the trip to the United States alone, trusting to chance encounters on the road to keep my chichotas well-fed and quiet.� �They would have to come with me, and keep me serviced.� I could supplement their seed with whatever I could find along the way, but at least they could guarantee my demanding tetotas a certain bare minimum of nourishment.�
�Before I left, though, I needed to make certain that the district was provided for.� I don�t know why I felt that way.� It just had to be. I climbed the hill behind our little village late that night and lifted my chicotas to the sky.� There was no moon, ad I could feel the virtue surge out of me into the ground.� I stood there the rest of the night.� At dawn, the four of us got onto the bus, and came her, to Phoenix, to you.