Berto's Roses

Berto's Roses

By Ben

Part LI

Hand in hand we returned to the casa and the others. Carla met us in the garden and told us that Ricky had called to give an update on Jose's condition. He had not awakened, but he was now physically stable and in no immediate danger of dying. Ricky would be staying the night at the hospital. Carla had decided that it would do neither him nor Jose any good for all of us to be there and just sent some food for Ricky with Paco, along with a change of clothes and Ricky's toiletries.

That being done, the next thing I turned my attention to was getting Randy and Wade settled in. I decided that, since there were two of them, they should have a bigger room. Also, they would be doing the day-to-day stuff of running the bed and breakfast, so they needed to be near the office. I took them up to Bob's room, stripped the bed and put on fresh linens.

After that, I found several boxes that my art supplies had been delivered in and began taking down Bob's personal items-photo's etc. I was going to send them to his daughter. She was a bitch, but they really now belonged to her. She could do with them as she wished. I put the boxes in one of the smaller rooms for shipping when things slowed down a bit.

I went downstairs and found Randy, Wade, Carla and Berto sitting in front of a fire in the sunroom. The sun had long since set and the four young people were illuminated by the light of the flames. They sat in silence, each in their own solitude. Despite the sad reason for their meeting, they were all breathtakingly beautiful. What a photo this would make.

I silently slipped out and got my camera from the studio and returned. I set it so that no flash was used and took several candid shots of the group and each individual. I was in a position that made them unaware of what I was doing. This made it even better as there was no reaction to the camera.

I put the camera back and returned to the sunroom. Carla noticed me come in and made room on the big sofa for me between her and Berto. I sat down and put an arm around each of them. Turning my head one way and then the other, I kissed them both on the head and asked if they were okay.

"Si, Ben." Answered Carla. "I am fine. I have done all I can for Papa and Jose will be fine in time. I will return to San Augustin after the memorial service and take care of things at home. I suppose we will need to arrange to have Jose taken home as well."

"That's probably best for him." I agreed. "Thank God something good came from all of this."

"Senor Ben? Asked Berto. "Do you think you could finish the painting of Mama before the memorial service?" He turned his gaze from the flames and looked at my face.

"I will do whatever it takes to make that happen, Berto. Would you like to choose the photo for me?"

"Si, can we do it now?

"Of course we can." I said and got to my feet. Berto followed me to my studio and switched on my computer. He looked through the photos I had taken of Manuella and chose one that I had almost forgotten. It was taken when Manuella was looking out on the garden at Berto working there. The sun shone on her face and her expression was one of pride and contentment.

Her dark eyes shone with the love she felt for her son. Her hands were resting on the windowsill and her round body was bent slightly forward so she could get a better view. It captured all that was this sweet, beautiful woman. I was the perfect choice and I promised Berto I would start the painting in the morning.

I stretched and yawned. It had been another very long, emotional day. I told Berto I was going to bed. He shut down the computer, stood and pushed the chair against the table. He then removed his shirt and shorts and crawled into my bed. I was mildly surprised that he wanted to spend another night sleeping with me, but I could refuse him nothing.

I, too, stripped to my underwear, switched off the light and got into bed. The moon was full in a cloudless sky and the silver light came through huge studio windows, lighting the bed. Berto's tanned skin stood out in stark contrast to the white sheets.

He lay with his back to me and I reached to give him a hug. I kissed his bare shoulder and told him good night.

"Buenas Noches, Senor Ben. Thank you for doing the painting for me. The picture you took of Mama is very good. What was she looking at through the window? She seemed very happy."

I answered quietly, with a lump growing in my throat. "She was happy, Berto. She was watching you work with the roses in the garden."

Berto turned toward me. "Si?" he asked. I could see his eyes fill with tears in the moonlight.

"Si." I answered and pulled him to me. He hugged his body into mine. His head on my chest. I held him until I heard his gentle breathing and I knew he was asleep. I reached up and stroked his soft, thick hair. I never wanted to be anywhere else or with anybody else. I wanted just to hold this wonderful young man forever; to give him comfort, to help him heal.

I drifted off into contented sleep. I dreamed of sun filled days and moonlit nights, of roses and the sea. Amid all of this was the image of Berto, his eyes shining and his smile brilliant. I awoke as the sky was beginning to lighten. Pink and gold clouds were barely visible on the horizon above the gulf. I could feel Berto's warm skin next to mine. He had turned in his sleep and we were "spooning" with his back against my chest.

I leaned my face down and inhaled his youth, his masculine essence. My body responded immediately and I felt my cock harden against his firm ass cheeks. Oh how I wanted to take him. I wanted to make endless love to him. I held his slender body to me tenderly and lay in heaven for the next hour.

The sun had risen and the sky was a clear brilliant blue. I heard a soft knock on the door and then Carla came in with a small tray. On it were threes steaming mugs of coffee, a sugar bowl, a small bottle of milk and some spoons. She set the tray down on the table and made her way over to Berto's side of the bed.

She bent to kiss his face. "Wake up, sleepy head..."

Berto opened his eyes and gave a sleepy smile. "Buenas Dias, Carlita." He said in a slightly hoarse voice. He turned his face toward me and continued to smile. Buenas Dias, Senor Ben. Did you sleep well? Did I keep you awake?"

"I slept very well." I answered "You didn't keep me awake at all."

Berto turned back to face Carla and pulled my arms more tightly around him. He wiggled his butt against my crotch. "Mmm, you are so warm, Senor Ben. I don't want to get up. The air has a chill. I will stay here where it is warm."

Carla laughed told him to sit up. "Here this will warm you." She handed him a mug of coffee into which she stirred four spoonfuls of sugar and a generous portion of milk. To me she handed a mug of coffee, black. How could she know how Berto and I preferred our coffee? After preparing her own mug, she crawled up on the bed and sat, cross-legged, in her robe at our feet.

"We have much to do today." Said Carla, over her coffee." Berto you must go with me to see the Padre. We will speak to him about the service. Then I will go to the hospital to check on Ricky and Jose. Randy has kicked me out of the kitchen and taken over. Wade is in the office with Nathan, going over the books and records."

"I guess that leaves me time to start that painting for you, Berto." I said, setting my empty coffee mug on the nightstand. "If you will both excuse me, I'll take my shower and get started." I grabbed my robe off the headboard and threw it around me as I stood up. My erection had subsided since it was no longer pressed into Berto's warm ass.

I made my way around the bed and to the bathroom door. I heard Berto and Carla whispering in Spanish and turned to see them looking at me as if they were conspiring "What?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing, Ben." Answered Carla and they both started giggling. I just shook my head and walked into the bathroom. I shaved and took a long, hot shower. Thinking about Berto's body pressed to mine brought back my hard on with a vengeance. I masturbated myself to an explosive climax and came what seemed like a quart.

Thinking back, it had been since I was in Chicago that I had last cum. No wonder the load was so huge. I rinsed and dried myself then returned to my bedroom/studio. I was a little disappointed to find Carla and Berto already gone. The tray and coffee mugs were cleared away and the bed was made up neatly.

I fired up the computer and found a large prepared canvas. Placing it on the table I began to sketch while consulting the photo of Manuella on the monitor. I still had just enough melancholy left to be effective in my work. I wanted to make this painting special for Berto. If it turned out well enough not to embarrass me, I would place it in a location of prominence in the casa. Perhaps it would look nice over the new fireplace in the sunroom.

I worked steadily and got the important line drawn onto the canvas then decided to take a short break before I broke out the paints and brushes. I strolled across the carport to the kitchen door and entered. I saw Randy's cute, firm butt bent over, his head stuck in the large refrigerator while he rooted around taking inventory of its contents.

I admired the view for a moment and then shut the door so he would know I was there. Randy stood up quickly which caused him to bang his head on the upper door.

"Shit, Ben." He said, rubbing the back of his head while he turned to face me. "You scared the shit out of me. Why don't you make some noise or something?"

I couldn't help but laugh at him. "I'm sorry, buddy. I didn't mean to make you knock your brains loose. Are you alright?"

Randy laughed too. "Yeah I reckon I'll live after all. You ain't got much in the way of food around here. Is there a supermarket in town or something where I can go shopping?"

"Hmm." I replied. "I don't remember ever seeing one here. I know there are small markets and stands in town, but I never went to any of them. That was always handled by Manuella..." My voice trailed off and there was silence for a long moment. Then I continued, "I'll have Berto go with you. He's lived here all his life and knows where everything is. How much Spanish do you know?"

"Hell I ain't sure I could even spell the word Spanish. I never took no foreign language in school." Was his answer.

"Sadly, I don't speak it either. I guess I should think seriously about learning it if I'm going to live here, huh?

"Yeah, I reckon so, Ben. Maybe me and Wade could learn with you."

"Sounds like a plan, my friend. When Berto gets back, please send him into my studio and I'll talk to him about going to the market with you. I need to get back to work on Manuella's painting." I grabbed two bananas and another mug of coffee and headed back to work.

I selected and mixed the paint for the background on my well-used pallet. It was an oldie, but it was like a comfortable pair of jeans. I fit my hand well and it held a generous amount of paint. Also, it was easy to clean. As long as it held out, I'd use it forever.

Using strong broad strokes I applied the background colors and blended in the shadow. Details, like the clock on the wall I would add later. I tried to control my anxiousness to move to the foreground and the figure of Manuella herself. I knew from experience that I need this firm foundation to make the painting a success.

As I had with the painting of Berto, I tried to channel my feelings of love for the short, round woman into my brush. To say I was as successful as I had been before would not be entirely accurate, but I could definitely feel something. I already knew this would not be my best work, but I was more than satisfied with what was developing before me.

Having never been formally trained, I had to teach myself, through trial and error what works and what doesn't work for me while I paint. Painting the human figure it one of the most difficult challenges I face. In this case, the rounded, almost childlike features of Berto's mother, really helped out a lot. My hand just naturally moves in those lines and directions.

Berto came in around midday and stood behind me to watch me paint. I turned and noticed and expression of doubt on his face. As soon as he saw me looking at him, he did his best to conceal it.

"I doesn't look like much now, Berto. But, I promise, you will be pleased by the finished product."

All traces of doubt left his face and were replaced by trust and confidence in what I had just said. "Randy told me you wanted to me to go with him into town to buy some food?"

"If you don't mind. His Spanish is worse than mine, if that's possible, and he just needs to know where and what is available. Do you know where to take him?"

"Oh, si, Senor Ben. I have gone many times with Mama. I have also gone alone for her, so I know the shops and I know the people. I will make sure that he is treated well and gets the best prices. I will teach him how to shop in Santa Rosalia."

"Thanks Berto. How did the meeting with the Padre go?"

"It was very sad, but very happy too. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, I think I do. Did the Padre know your Mama well."

"Oh, si. He knows all of the people in town well. He has known Mama since she was a nina. He was there to help her when I was born. Mama named me after him, did you know that?"

"No, I didn't. So his name is Father Berto?"

Berto smiled at my ignorance. "Berto is half a name, Senor Ben. Like your name is Benton. My whole name is Umberto. Umberto Miguel Joachin de la Cruz. Mama gave me his family name as well."

"Oh," I said, a bit surprised. " I never knew that. I guess I should have."

Berto furrowed his brow. "How could you know if Mama or I have never told you?"

"I guess that makes sense." I agreed. "Tell me about your plans for the memorial service."

"Carla did most of the arrangements because I did not know what to do. She and the Padre planned a quiet ceremony with music and candles. The church is small, but many people knew Mama and even more knew Don Chavez. A few people even knew Senor Bob. Will his daughter be coming for the service?"

"No, not according to what Nathan told me. She only seemed interested in what she could get from Bob's share of the casa. Apparently she is more in need of money than she is in need of mourning her father. He has two brothers, but I have no idea of how to get in touch with them."

Berto nodded his understanding. "I will find Randy so we can go into town and but the things he needs. Oh, mi tio wants to do the flowers for Mama's service and for the house. I told her that it would be alright. Did I do the right thing, Senor Ben?" He looked at me for approval.

I hugged him to me. "Yes, you did great, Berto. I am sure doing this for her sister will help her a lot."

Berto left in search of Randy and I returned my attention to my painting. A few minutes later, Berto returned with a strange expression on his face.

"What's wrong, Berto? Did you find Randy?"

Berto looked up at me and nodded his head. "Si, I found him..." His voice trailed off.

"And did you talk to him about going into town?" I asked.

"Um, no. He was with Wade in their room and they were... busy..."

"Oh, I see." I understood immediately that Berto had walked in on them having sex.

Berto continued, "I knocked loudly at the door but I think the did not hear me. And when I opened the door they were... um... you know?" Berto looked at me and blushed deeply. "I did not mean to look but when I opened the door I saw them and I was surprised. I just stood there and couldn't believe what I was seeing. When I finally was able to think, I quietly closed the door."

"Then they didn't see you? They didn't know you were there? I asked.

Berto shook his head. "No, I think they were only aware of each other."

"Okay, then you don't need to mention anything to them. Are you okay? Do you have anything you want to talk about? You know, about what you saw?" I offered.

Berto was silent for a moment, then he said, "Um, Wade's pinga is muy grande. It is this big." He held his hands about foot apart. "I thought he would hurt Randy with what he was doing with him, but Randy seemed to like it very much."

"Well, they have been together for a while, Berto. I suspect Randy has grown used to it by now."

Berto nodded. "Senor Ben? May I ask you something?"

"Of course, Berto what is it?" I was dreading whatever he was about to say.

He looked straight into my eyes. "Are most men, um... endowed like Wade? I mean when they are...firm?"

"No, Wade is definitely not typical." I told him. I realized that I had just revealed to Berto that I knew just how atypical Wade really was."

Berto expression turned to one of relief. "Ok, I was just wondering. I am not nearly so big." He then asked me, "Um, are you that big, Senor Ben?"

I turned crimson. I never thought I would have a conversation like this with Berto. "Oh no, Berto. Not even close. Most men are not."

"That is good to know, I think. Randy must be very brave indeed."

If he had not been so sincere and innocent. His remark would have caused me to laugh out loud. Instead, I merely nodded my agreement. Having experienced, first hand, Wade's monster cock. I knew just how brave Randy really was.

I painted for a short while as Berto watched in silent reflection. I don't know if his thoughts were of the painting, of his mother, of what he has seen with Randy and Wade or whatever. After a half-hour or so, Randy wandered out of the kitchen and into my studio.

"Ah, there you are, Berto. I was looking all over for you." Randy greeted him. "Are you ready to get started?"

"Uh... si, Randy..." Berto stammered, blushing. "I will drive the truck for you." He hurried out of the room.

"What's the matter with him?" Randy asked.

"Oh, nothing. He'll be alright. Here let me give you some money." I handed him a handful of bills. "Let Berto negotiate the prices. He knows what he's doing. Just watch and learn, my friend."

"I'll be happy to watch Berto. He's hotter than a firecracker!" Randy gave a lewd expression.

"Hmmm... I'm not sure your advances will be met with much favor. I don't know that Berto goes that way. I do know he has a new found respect for your abilities, though." I grinned at him.

"Huh? What the hell are you talking' about?" Randy asked scratching his head.

"It seems he walked in on you and Wade a little while ago." I explained.

"Holy shit! Wade was wearing my ass out good. How much did he see?"

"Enough to know that Wade is hung like a horse, and that you can take him without any trouble at all."

"Damn. No wonder he acted so funny. What should I do? What should I say to him?"

"I don't think you should say anything to him unless he brings it up. I don't think that will happen, but if it does, just be open and honest with him. As I said, I don't know if he is into guys or not, but he's about your age and may want to talk to you about it."

"Okay. I just hope he ain't gonna be weird with me from now on. I really like him and with both of us living here, I want everything to be cool."

"I'm sure it will be fine, Randy. He'll forget all about it by the time you get to town. Oh, by the way, hang on to your hat when you get in the truck. Berto drives like a mad man."

"Thanks for the warning." Randy remarked and exited the studio with a wave of his hand. I went back to my painting and several hours passed before I heard the truck return. I was surprised to see the limousine pull in behind it. Berto and Randy seemed to be past any weird feelings that might have developed and were chattering away and laughing about their adventures in town.

Carl got out of the big Mercedes and I was surprised to see Ricky follow her. I went to him and gave him a big hug. "How is Jose?" I asked.

"He was awake for a while this afternoon. He was in a lot of pain and he was very confused. He doesn't remember the crash at all, but the doctor said that he will probably remember more of it later. I asked him why they were flying in the storm and apparently Mack wanted to hurry up and get back so he reconcile with Nathan after their fight the night of the party." Ricky related.

"Why am I not surprised that asshole had something to do with it? I don't want to speak ill of the dead, but I have to marvel at that guy. What a jerk! I don't know what Bob, or Nathan for that matter, ever saw in him." I said.

"Ben," Ricky looked up at me. "The doctor told me that Jose will be okay to leave the hospital tomorrow. I was going to have the helicopter brought down and take him to San Augustin, but he refuses to fly. I think the long ride home may be too much for him, even in the limousine. Would it be okay if I brought him here fore a few days to recuperate before taking him home."

"Yes!" I kissed Ricky's forehead. "Of course. I would love to have him here. We'll see that he has the best possible care."

I'll bet, by now some of you thought that all I had in me was fifty chapters. Not so! The story continues! Write to me at ben_sc@hotmail.com. Check out my other stories, under the "Authors" link. Look for "Lyle Benton".