Erin's Life ~ Book 2



Chapter 32 ~ Mf

Mia and Rosalita Gonzales never had a chance.  They were born from two different fathers in the same whorehouse in which their mother was the star attraction.... and she didn't know which men had made her pregnant.  Sometimes, condoms and sponges just failed.  Forty miles in the middle of the Mexican desert from the nearest town ensured whatever passed for constabulary was well compensated for looking the other way, and so The Desert Rose was a well-established watering hole for whichever bad element happened to be passing through... usually someone smuggling this or that to the American border.

Mia was 14 and her little sister 8 when an otherwise-safe regular customer got high on PCP and peyote and stabbed and killed their mother.  Their mother had been able to keep them directly off the payroll by putting the girls to work cooking and cleaning, but Mia still gave the occasional blow or hand job... under her mother's supervision... to those men who liked them a little younger.  With her mother gone Mia immediately knew which way the wind was blowing when the owner started giving her that look... if you want to stay, you've got to play.... and even saw him appraising her little sister in the same way.  Fortunately, or unfortunately, perhaps, two well-known Coyotes... men who would smuggle Mexicans over the border into the United States... were in the bar that night drinking with plans to each take a woman upstairs.  Mia quickly counted the money her mother had been stashing under the floorboards of her room and quietly approached the men when the owner was out in the back getting more liquor.  She quickly managed to negotiate a price for them to smuggle her and her sister away, and all it would cost her is almost all of her mother's savings... and she had to spend the night with both of them.  She agreed, and she paid her price, the proof was in the blood she left on the sheets that night as the larger one took her virginity, and the smaller one took her after.  Even though the pain was deep, she never cried out.

Later in the night when they thought she was sleeping she heard them talking, how they were leaving at first light and the rest of the people would be meeting them at the "needle," wherever that was.  She did manage to doze a while, but still woke up before them, found her clothes in the dark, then gathered up her sister.   They packed a few clothes in a bag and went back to the Coyotes' room to wait for first light.  When the men finally began to stir Mia and Rosalita were standing across the room dressed and ready and just looking at them, the one who was in charge looking at Rosalita saying, "You should have let her pay the price, too.  Save you some money," and both men laughed.  Mia just moved her little sister behind her protectively.

The sisters rode in the back of a truck as they pulled away from the only home they'd ever known, watching the black silhouette of the whore house get smaller and smaller against the red and blue sunrise.  They had put a makeshift wooden cross on their mother's otherwise unmarked grave in the back before they left.

After about an hour of bouncing and dust they stopped and heard voices, and suddenly about 10 other men and women were climbing in the back, giving the Coyotes money as they climbed on board.  The sisters huddled in the front corner, some of the men were looking at her the way almost every other man she had ever met had looked at her.  She knew what it meant, and they looked away as her angry, flinty eyes found theirs.  She heard the people talking, apparently they were expected to cross into Texas near Waco and get dropped off, and there was a marked trail with springs for water until they arrived at a river, which if they just followed it would take them to a city and then busses would take them anywhere in the country they wanted to go.  Mia didn't know if the money she had left was enough to get them on a bus, but she didn't care.  She had nothing, anywhere, so they had nothing to lose.


Mitch Whitman was no longer new to the border patrol... he'd been employed by them for a couple years, now... but as he had been a model employee during his probationary period they'd recently given him first choice for permanent assignment.  They were surprised when he chose middle-of-nowhere Texas where no one wanted to be stationed, instead of one of the prime duty stations like San Diego.  Mitch Whitman didn't want the big cities... too many eyes.... he wanted his privacy.

He found an old hacienda for sale and fixed it up, getting the well running, some solar panels installed, a power-generating windmill.  He had the house fixed up so it would hold heat at night and be cool in the day.  He had no social life outside of his work so in his free time he dug out a small swimming pool, running the plumbing and lining it with concrete, himself.  He was still trying to figure out how to reduce the amount of water it evaporated during the day, even from under a cover.  It was a luxury out here in the desert, but the pool reminded him of his life before the border patrol and it wasn't like he had any other way to fill his hours.

The ironic thing is, he wasn't even that loyal of an agent.  He was considered the golden child back during his probation for the simple reason he always was on time for his shift, never called off, and never showed up drunk or high.  That made him A-number-1 among his peers.  Now that he was out here patrolling a 50 mile stretch of border on his own in a Ford Bronco, rarely seeing another agent while on his shift, he didn't much care about the job.  He'd seen the destitute people doing their best to cross the border through the desert.  If it looked like they were truly going to perish along the way... he learned which ones these were, the ones already dragging, with very little water left for the next 40 miles.... he'd detain them in and get a pat on the back for doing a good job.  But if they were well-provisioned he would just wave them on with a wink and a smile, accepting the repeated "gracias, gracias," from each of them.  He didn't feel it would be right to stop them from trying to improve their lives.

Everything changed for him the day he was driving along some random, unnamed, unpaved road about 10 miles from the border, turned a blind bend around a massive rock, and nearly hit a broken-down truck.  He skidded to a stop and by the time the dust was clearing he saw two dark men pointing rifles at him through the windshield, no, one was a double-barreled shotgun, and a dozen others running for cover on the other side of the truck.  He could see the truck tire that was off the axle, now.  He just followed his instinct, put his hands out the window, "No tirar!  No tirar! I'm coming out!"  He slowly opened the door, and got out, his hands high, stepping away from his Bronco as the two bad-looking men kept their rifles on them.  "Tu hablas engles?"

The bigger man snorted at the smaller one at border patrol's poor Spanish, "Yeah, how's this gonna go, gringo?"

"Hey," Mitch said, "I didn't know you were here.  Are you Coyotes?"

Again, they looked at each other, and the larger one answered, "Si..."

"Well that's fine... looks like you're having some car trouble.  Need a tire iron or something?"  Mitch saw the men look at each other, and laugh... and they conversed for a moment, his Spanish not good enough yet to follow what they were saying.

Finally they turned to him, "You the gringo we heard about, border patrol who lets people pass?"

"I didn't know I was becoming famous, but yeah, I usually let them pass unless I know they aren't going to make it.  Why don't you put down the guns and let's get you out of here before a real agent shows up."  They slowly lowered their rifles, and Mitch put down his hands at the same time.  He slowly approached, "Just a flat tire, or busted axle?"

"Busted axle," the larger one said.  

"Ouch, can't fix that out here."  He looked at them, considering.  He spoke softly, so the others, still hiding behind the truck, couldn't hear.  "Were you planning on cutting them loose and heading back?"

"Si... maybe getting a truck at a farm on the way through."  

Mitch thought about that... he didn't like it, but this was a situation in which he couldn't start acting like he was in charge.  They were still carrying rifles and he didn't care to get killed, today.  "Try not to kill anyone I know," he said... not really feeling cavalier about their raiding one of the farms out here in Texas, but feeling like there was nothing he could do about it.  They laughed, lowering their guard a little.  "Let me take a look at your travelers, make sure they can make it to the trail.  You were heading for the trail, right?"


"You been paid?"


"Well then I tell you what.  If you take off now, I can give you a four hour head start before I report finding this truck with no one at it.  Sound good?"

After a pause, "Why you not doing your job, gringo?"

"Because I don't care if these people cross over, and I don't want anyone to die here, today."

They nodded, "Adios, gringo," as they grabbed their packs from the cab of the truck and headed on foot back toward the border... but even with their agreement with the gringo border patrol agent, they still planned on scouting a new trail and raiding one of the remote ranch houses before they headed back.  As it turned out, they found a horse ranch and shot the owner dead in the yard and his hired man in the barn, fucked a couple of the mares that were in heat, and then stole a couple other horses and saddles and headed out.

But for now Mitch watched them walk away, and then he turned to the people huddling behind the truck.  "No tengas miedo," don't be afraid.... "No te estoy arrestando."  I'm not arresting you.  It was one of the first phrases he had taught himself when he came out here.  He glanced in the back of the truck on the way by, he saw a pack of bottled waters.  Good.  He turned and looked at them, they were pretty much lined up for him.  He looked them over, most had backpacks.  As he examined each of them... good walking shoes, packs, he'd ask, "Tienes agua?" and they all responded with "Si."  He hoped they weren't lying, but he wasn't going to make them prove it.  At the end of the row he found a young girl, a teenager, looking at him with flinty gray eyes.  No... it was two girls, she was shielding a smaller one... maybe a sister?  Both only wearing slippers, and thin dresses, and the older one only had a small bag over her shoulder.  They will never make it on their own....

He stood before them, and he knew he didn't have enough Spanish for this next part, but hoped one of them habla'd, anyway and could pass it along.  "The trail is that way, 3 miles.  It is well marked.  Follow it, keep the sun on your right until noon, and the sun on your left after noon.  There are natural springs along the way, and then a river, so you will have water.  Comprehendo?"

"Yes I got it, I will tell them," a young man said to him.

"Thanks," Mitch said.  "Now y'all go!  Hurry up, I'm reporting this truck in 4 hours.  Go as fast as you can."

He watched them take the bottles of water from the back, raid the cab for two more half-drunk bottles, and leave... but he stopped the two young girls.  "No you," he said to the older one, holding her shoulder, as she turned to him with hate in her eyes.


He had the two girls in the back of his Bronco taking it slow so they didn't have too bumpy a ride.  "You speak English?" he asked them, but the older girl just glared at him, the younger one hiding her face in her sister's side.

He tried talking a little bit more, telling his name, asking theirs.  He was answered with silence.  Finally he said, "I'm sorry to have to turn you in, but there's no way you can make that hike, you just aren't ready for it.  I couldn't live with myself if I left you to die in that desert.  Really, I'm sorry."

A moment after that, in very broken English, "Seņor, please, no take us back."  The older one had spoken, he met her eyes in his rear view mirror.

"Sweetheart, I have to.  I can't just leave you to die out here."

After a moment, "Please then go somewhere else.  Please.  We have nada there."

Mitch thought for a moment... suddenly it came into his mind... he hadn't thought of this possibility at all since he had come out here... he suddenly saw these girls in his hacienda, with him.  And... he had to go by there in another 7 miles, on his way to the patrol office... maybe I can just get them fed and cleaned up, take them to the city and the bus stop tomorrow, or... my day off is in three days... maybe then...

He looked at the older one in the mirror, again.  "What are your names?"

She answered, "Me llamo is Mia Elena Gonzales, and mi hermana es Rosalita Guadalupe Gonzales."

"You really have no one at home?"

"We have no home," she said flatly.

They pulled in front of his hacienda, he turned off the truck.  "I will make you a deal," he said, turning in his seat to talk to the girls in the back, in the cage.  "I will let you stay here with me in my home, and in three days, on my day off, I will take you to the city, and I will buy you bus tickets to wherever you want to go.  Deal?"

Mia looked him in the eyes.  "You no hurt us?"

"I don't hurt little girls," he answered with complete sincerity.

She considered, looking at his face.  "Ok," Mia answered.

"We get to stay here?" Rosalita asked, Mitch noticed her English was a little better than her sister's.  

"Si, with...." and she looked up at him.  

"My name is Mitch, but you can call me John.  Let's get you inside and settled."


John had every intention of taking the girls to the city on his day off.   He let them into his home and showed them around, telling them to make themselves comfortable, telling them when he would be back, and then he went and finished out his shift.  He decided he could report the broken-down truck the next day, from the field.  It would seem more natural.  He came home hoping they hadn't robbed him blind, but found music playing on the radio and the smell of something wonderful in his kitchen.  

"Welcome home, I cook," Mia said to him.  "You sit."

With wide eyes, John sat.

Rosalita sat next to him, she smelled like his soap, she must have had a bath.  She smiled up at him.

Mia brought over his pan and placed a tamale on his plate, and served her sister, and then one for herself.  She sat as John was about to dig in.  "No, pray first."

Startled, John dropped his fork and folded his hands, looking at her.

She closed her eyes, "Dear Jesus, thank you for bringing us safely to Los Estados Unidos, and for sending Juan to find us and keep us safe.  Amen."

"Amen," Rosalita mimicked, again looking up at him and smiling.

John didn't think he'd had food that good since he came to this part of the country, and Mia made him another in spite of his insisting he was full... but he devoured that one, too.


In the morning Mia was up making him breakfast before work.  She met him in the kitchen at night when he got home, already making dinner.  He didn't think his little house had ever been so clean and dust free.  And so it was again the next day.  Mia was still a little cold to him, he wondered what kind of life had made her this way, and when he tried to ask her she seemed to get angry, so he didn't try.   The next day was his day off, he told him they would sleep in, drive to the city and have lunch, he'd take them shopping for clothes and provisions, and he'd send them anywhere they wanted to go.  

Little Rosalita started crying, "But I don't want to go."  

Mia just held her, soothing her, caressing her hair, not looking at John.  "Estaremos bien.... estaremos bien..."

That night John was awoken in the middle of the night, at first he was completely confused, but then he remembered the young girls sleeping out on his living room floor.  But... now... he felt one crawling into bed beside him... and he felt her warm, smooth skin over her rib cage.

"Juan..." she whispered.  He opened his eyes, saw Mia over him in the nearly pitch-black room.  "Juan... you let us stay.  You good man, I be good woman to you," and then she kissed him.

John was stunned... wondered if he was dreaming.  Reflexively he reached up to stop her, and ended up wrapping his arm around her naked body.  He ordinarily slept nude but wore shorts to bed with the girls here, he suddenly felt a lot of heat and skin, and his body reacted.  Her kisses were clumsy, fumbling, he wondered if she ever had before... and then he felt her hand on him, over his shorts, he was already hard.   He heard her mumble, "Mmm, grande..." as she wrapped her fingers around him and that never managed to hurt his feelings.  

He gave in as she began to stroke him, he went down her body and spread her thighs.  She tried to stop him, to pull him up to her.... but he tasted her, licking her exactly how he knew young girls liked it.  After she cried out what was her very first orgasm, he crawled up her body and he filled her.  Her first time when she bought her passage it hurt and she held in her cries, but this was so much pleasure she couldn't, she cried out as she joined him in his orgasm.  Then they held each other in the dark.  "Are you sure you want to stay with me?" he asked her softly.  

She squeezed him, "Si... por favor... we stay.  Please," and she reached down and started stroking him again, finding him already nearly hard.

He kissed her forehead.  "You can stay with me.  Of course you can stay."

She rolled on top of him, kissed him deeply, and took him inside her again, this time on top.  She cried out softly in another orgasm as John again filled her 14 year old body with his cum, kissing and suckling at her brown nipples as she gasped and caught her breath.

He woke in the morning to the smell of cooking.  His alarm hadn't been on, it was his day off.  He put on his robe to find Mia over the stove in the kitchen and Rosalita in front of the TV watching cartoons in Spanish.  He walked into the kitchen and behind the young woman who had come to his bed last night.  He put his hands on her hips and bent down to kiss her neck good morning.... and she shrugged him off of her and started talking... nearly yelling... sternly to him in Spanish so fast he couldn't follow.

He backed away, "Sorry... sorry... but good morning, I just wanted to say...."

Mia gave him a flinty glare pointing the spatula at him like a weapon, he thought maybe he saw some softness in her eyes, at his words?  But he didn't want to bet money on that.  "Good morning," she enunciated slowly.  "Breakfast soon."

"Ok sweetie," he said, still backing away, until Mia nodded at him.

Over breakfast Mia explained to Rosalita they they could stay with Juan, she was excited at the news and excitedly hugged him.  John couldn't help but smile.  Mia just looked at him expressionless, when he caught her eye.

They went into the city that day anyway, he took them clothes shopping, toiletries, whatever Mia thought they both needed.  He was surprised it wasn't much, besides some changes of clothes all she really wanted for herself was a new hair brush and some shampoo that smelled nice, and she spent time opening and smelling every brand in the aisle.  He liked the one she chose, it made her smell like flowers.  All day whenever he tried to get close to her with an innocent touch she pushed him away, angrily shouting at him so fast in Spanish.  He didn't know what to make of it.  That night when she made up her and Rosalita's bed on the living room floor, he all but told her she was welcome to share his bed, but he would only get that flinty glare from her.

But then in the small hours of the morning, she woke him... and she hugged him, and apologized for being so hard.... "I so sorry... I know I mean...this all so new... my mother say to never be weak in front of a man..." and she made love to him.  He noticed her kissing was getting so much better, she was a fast learner, and they kissed so much.  During, after, during again.  He wasn't sure yet how experienced she was... when he spooned up behind her to enter her, she didn't seem to know what to do at all... but soon he heard her moans, and she pushed back at him as he drove into her small, brown body.  She seemed to go crazy when he reached down to rub her clit while he was inside of her, fighting to keep her voice down to not wake her little sister.  John was very content when they finally fell asleep together, she on his arm holding him.

And when he woke up on the second off day it was the same thing... Mia cooking breakfast, and being cold to him.  He truly did not get it, didn't understand how she was so passionate and affectionate at night in bed, but so cold and hard during the day.  

And he never came to understand it, even months later.  The girls had been there for a year, and John had gotten forged custody papers drawn up... they were his orphaned nieces, parents and birth records lost in a fire.... and he was sending them off to school every day.  At the end of his shift he would come home to find his Mia, now 5 months pregnant, making his dinner.  And after eating he would sit in his favorite spot on the couch while Mia sat cuddled next to him pointedly not watching her little 9 year old sister suck John's cock.  Rosalita had started sharing their bed, Mia one night just stopped making her bed up on the floor.  Rosalita watched her sister make love to John after they thought she was asleep, and was curious about some of the things they did together.  John was no stranger to teaching little girls about love, and Mia didn't like it but would not deny him anything, the man who saved them, so Rosalita learned to love making him feel good with her mouth.... and she liked how Juan licked her when they swam naked together in his pool.... John taught her the word "cummies."  Rosalita loved having cummies with Juan.  Mia was rarely affectionate to him while the sun was up, but in the dark, with shadows to hide her face from him, she would tell him, "Lo siento... te amo.... "  I'm sorry, I love you... over and over while they made love, being careful of the new life in her tummy.

That was where he was now.  He was a little distracted tonight, his thoughts far away after a great meal from Mia, and little Rosalita kneeling before him with his cock on her tongue.  As the little girl worked the end of his cock in and out of her mouth... she had not yet learned how to swallow his length... he thought of the word that had come down at work.... some Coyotes that were suspected in multiple murders on the Texas side of the border seemed to be scouting new routes in his territory, and he couldn't help but wonder if they were the same men who had been transporting Mia and Rosalita that day.

But Rosalita was getting very good at this... almost as good as Erin had been, near the end.  Thinking of his little blonde girl back in Florida, he began to cum in Rosalita's mouth who finally met his eyes as she swallowed every drop, Mia beside him, watching.



Chapter 33


Copyright 2017: "Marissa Banks." Rights reserved. Not for reuse without express written consent of the author. All content is purely fictional; any similarities to actual persons or events is pure coincidence. Reader must be of legal age in the judicial area he/she resides. Reproductions of the fiction contained herein or linked from here may not be used in whole or in part without express permission from the author.