Date: Sat, 18 Aug 2001 09:52:55 +0100
From: ben erikson <benhere23@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Trouble with Eddie

The Bergman Files: No1

The Trouble with Eddie (Part 2)

A story by Ben Erikson

Sleeping arrangements were simple enough. However Eddie and the kids sorted
themselves on the bed I was sleeping on the floor, my body blocking any
escape route should that have entered their heads. I was hoping there'd be
no more hanky-panky. Not, at least, until I could hank and pank with Eddie,
just the two of us. Joe was amazing but little Tito worried me, his age,
his quiet, his cool obedience.They seemed to settle down to sleep all
snuggled up together on top of the bed due to the heat. Eddie was naked;
Joe and Tito in their underwear. I woke at nearly 3.00am sensing
movement. I could make out Eddie on the bed pulling himself frantically
with one hand and finger-fucking a bare-ass-naked Joe with the other. Tito
had woken me, standing there, naked himself now, above me.

"He wants to sleep with you, Mikey." called Eddie in between quick pulls,
slow probes. "We keep him awake here. Watch out though, he pees the bed!"
There was stifled laughter at this, from Joe I think, or maybe he was just
responding to the finger up his ass. As it turned out they were just
teasing. Tito stood there and held his arms up and out, the universal
gesture that said: Pick me up. Carry me. Cuddle me. Love me. I groaned
wearily and threw aside the blanket I'd been using, rose to my feet and
picked Tito up under the armpits. He immediately wrapped his legs around my
middle just above the waistband of my boxer shorts. His little cock pressed
into the hair on my stomach as he leaned into me and hung his head sleepily
over my shoulder. This was the most expressive gesture he had made so far,
more expressive than words. In all this time he'd spoken only once or twice
to say "Yes" or "No" in English or whispered in Spanish to Eddie. I cradled
him under his cute little bottom with my forearms, feeling more paternal
than ever in my life. I carried him to the window and stood to one side of
the curtain and watched the night go by for several minutes. Everything was
very still out there, very normal, the hum of traffic from the freeway. God
knew what passed for normal in these boys lives but I thought it was about
time they had the chance to experience some.

Eddie was climaxing now. He'd straddled Joe's back, the smooth cheeks of
his ass resting on Joe's shoulderblades and was jerking himself off to
shoot a line of cum then two more in quick succession and then a shorter
one. They arced briefly into the air and splattered Joe's ample
backside. Eddie wiggled himself down Joe's back and scudded his own bottom
over Joe's, rubbing the spunk into them both, his cock still sticking up
straight to his belly-button. Tito was breathing deeply now approaching
sleep. I took him to my improvised bed by the door and lay down
carefully. I pulled him to my side and stroked his head a little when he
stirred, settling him. Eddie was now kissing and licking at the cheeks of
Joseph's ass, both of them stifling giggles.

"Eddie, go to sleep! That's an order, OK?"

"Fuck you, man!"  Even so, he left Joe alone and the pair of them rolled to
face each other on the bed smiling broadly at each other. Gradually they
seemed to drift to sleep. God knew what their morning routine was going to
be.

I woke at 6.00 with Tito gazing at my face in some kind of fascination. His
left hand nuzzled gently over the knob-end of my stiff penis as it pushed
up through my boxers.

"You OK?" I asked him. He gave no reply but leant across to me and kissed
me on my face.

"OK." I said, looking quickly over to the bed. Eddie and Joe were still
asleep, exhausted probably. That was fine by me.

I'd arranged for Lorraine from the child protection team to come over at
9.00 and I wanted to get things straightened up in here before she
showed. We'd worked together before and she'd only just given up trying
seriously to seduce me after 3 years of mutual flirting. We knew each other
very well and I'd asked for her specifically for that reason. I'd have
enough explaining to do as it was. I was meeting Mr Aftershave, Eddie's
stepdad, at 2.00 that afternoon. I was looking forward to that one.

*****

He still had his swagger. Why not? He thought he was here to pick up his
runaway stepson, get his money's worth, maybe relishing already the
prospect of teaching young Eddie a lesson he'd not forget, feeling already
the weight of the strap doubled in his hand, picturing the boy held down
over the bed. I let him enjoy his swagger as he moved into the room,
following the stink of his own aftershave at a respectful three paces. Let
him enjoy it while it lasted.

"Where's the little bastard, then? He give you any shit? I make sure he
pay, you know what I'm saying?"  I knew exactly what he was saying and had
the urge to take him out right there with a strike to his carotid artery,
to watch him sink to his knees grabbing uselessly for his gun, realising
too late that his brain wasn't sending the right signals anymore, wasn't
giving him the necessary information, was giving him shit. He was a
powerfully built man and I wanted to stay near enough to block any move he
might make when the time came so I moved in close and stuck my hand out.

"Mr Rafael. Glad you could make it. Real glad."

"Of course I could make it" he said giving me the briefest of hard
shakes. I took up a position slightly to one side but closer than common
curtesy would usually permit.

"So where is he? I got your money, if that's what your thinking. Shit,
you're all the same, you guys!"

I really didn't like the man; what was there to like, his social graces? I
was enjoying this already.

The knock on the door didn't precisely follow the pattern of our
pre-arranged signal. Barry was, as he always used to be, a law unto
himself.

"Come on in."

Mr Shit-for-Brains turned to the door and then back to me, his eyes
widening.

"What the fuck shit game you playing here, mister?"

"Mr Rafael." I kept my voice as even as possible. "The man with the
moustache is Mr Barry Montana the owner of this establishment and the man
with the pump-action shotgun is US Marshall Pat Leakey, who has some
questions for you."

"You son of a bitch..." he turned into me surprisingly fast for a man of
his size, his right hand already reaching inside his jacket. I took a
half-step to his left and drove my stiffened fingers into his kidneys and
relieved him of his gun as he doubled up and groped towards the carpet. He
lay there breathing hard, already sweating a bit while Barry searched him.

"He's clean."

"That's a matter of opinion." said Pat. "His aftershave for one - that
counts as an offensive weapon in my book."  I'd done some checking the
previous day and turned up some interesting dope on Eddie's stepdad. A
couple of outstanding warrants for possession of a concealed weapon, one
for assault, all of them in the Bay area. The jewel in the crown was
Federal interest in his possible role in a nationwide prostitution racket
with a garnish of drug running and tax avoidance. I'd never met Pat Leakey
before but Barry's recommendation was good enough for me. He was taking
Rafael to the local lock-up now, let him stink that place up.

He would, no doubt, be out again before tomorrow afternoon - I guessed he'd
have no problem with whatever bail was set - but it'd give Lorraine time
enough to get something sorted with the kids, to get young Eddie out of
town. I was taking him to LA, an uncle he could stay with. Someone who was
prepared to give the kid a home, some love and space, some good
advice. Boy, did he need some good advice. Joe and little Tito were going
with Lorraine. God knows I didn't want to see them get sucked into the
system but Lorraine was really very good and would bust a gut to get the
best for them, I knew. They'd be OK. I said good-bye, giving Joe a firm
handshake and telling him as sternly as I could to behave himself, you know
what I mean. He just grinned. He knew. I got a sweet cuddle and little kiss
from Tito. Before they left, Eddie went through a complicated handshake
routine with them both and hugged them close to him, he looked deeply into
Joe's eyes, some telepathy going down and they giggled together,
remembering. He picked Tito right up talking to him softly in Spanish. The
things he said were very tender and I won't embarrass him by revealing them
here. He gave Tito a kiss and ordered them to go, go now. He was crying a
bit himself as the car moved off, but I didn't let on I'd seen.

Our plane wasn't till the morning and I was going to let Eddie have the bed
again; I'd block the door. I still didn't completely trust him not to try a
midnight flit. In the event he was cool; he liked his uncle very much, he
said, would give it a go. We shook on it; not the complicated sort, just a
plain, old-fashioned man-to-man kind of shake.

"You do one thing for me now, Mikey." I hadn't done enough, apparantly.

"And what's that, young man?"

"Suck my dick, man." He'd already got a stiffie going; I'd watched as it
crept up his running shorts. He pulled his waistband down and let his head
pop out and up, already very wet with a clear, thick stickiness. He had a
beautiful cock, long and smooth, surprisingly hairless, almost like a
big10-year olds, but clearly capable of much more fruitful action. I'd seen
it getting some action already, remember?

"Were going to have to have a serious talk, Eddie." My own pants were
bulging out by now.

"After" he insisted.

I knelt down and pulled his shorts to his knees. He fingered himself
expertly and I gave his exposed backside a single very hard, stinging smack
with the flat of my hand. He yelped and reached to rub himself behind.

"Ow. What's that for?"

"For getting me into trouble, kid." I said. "Now hold still." I took his
cock into my mouth in little stages, working it gently and slowly before
getting my tongue in on the act. He actually yelled quite loud as I moved
over his head feeling it pulse out the clear, sweet lubrication and took
his buttocks into my hands, pushing him into me. He jerked himself forwards
letting out little doggie yelps as he came nearer to his climax. At the
last minute I let him go and reached a hand from behind, between his legs,
brushing his sticky asshole, grabbing his tight little balls and holding
them tighter still. He immediately let out a long groan and shot his load
into my face, rubbing his prick up my cheek, an action he carried on for
some seconds whilst he subsided. He squeezed the end of his cock between
his fingers and drew the last drops of spunk to his mouth and feasted on
them. I went to the bathroom to clean myself up. When I returned he was on
the bed, naked, apparantly satisfied, ready to get some shuteye.

"I don't want to hear from you or see you up close till the morning, you
understand Eddie?"

He muttered something in Spanish, lying there already pulling idly on his
cock, a big grin on his face and a look in his eyes that I hadn't seen
before, a look that made me think for the first time that he might, just
might make it OK. I was glad to see that look; boy, was I glad. He looked
at me almost with the same tenderness he'd reserved for little Tito and
gave me a wide, knowing smile. I hadn't quite heard what he had said but it
sounded like:

"Fuck you man. You ain't seen the last of me, you fuck!"

For the first time I spoke to him in Spanish.

"Before we leave tomorrow" I said, "I'm going to wash your hair."

I looked at him, enjoying the moment as the realisation hit him.

"Motherfucker..." he said.