Bennie

It has been five years since my divorce—an easy one for me, as it was my former wife Margie who ran off with her older sister’s husband, and I stayed blissfully single and roaming a bit for those years, too. I badly missed one of my earliest playmates from the day I had learned of my unfaithful wife from her own niece!

That cute niece, almost 18 at the time, and I (26, then) had a week of wild sex, for my wife’s sister had taken off after them with fire in her eyes, despite her attorney’s advice, to find and—I don’t know what she intended, really, for she never found ‘em, and I for one didn’t give a damn.

As I said, Bennie and I had an almost idyllic week, keeping close to my house, me not wanting any interference, she not caring as long as she was "comforting" me. I think she grew up a lot that week.

Anyway, Bennie’s mother finally came home and called me, wanting to commiserate and, as an afterthought, wanting to know where her daughter Benicia might be. Not that she seemed to care very much, Bennie having turned 18 just before she came home. I know she had no reaction when I told her that Bennie had spent most of the days with me, going home at night. Luckily, Bennie and I had done some cleaning—in the daytime—Marsha’s house didn’t look too horrible. She had no comment on that, either, but as soon as Bennie graduated from high school that Spring, they moved away, separately, and I didn’t know where Bennie had gone. Marsha—I cared?

So, I was going through life with the feeling that I was missing something, and trying to make up for it by being a workaholic and making out very occasionally with some of the girls with whom my work threw me in contact. I was traveling a good deal, and I met a good many nice—and occasionally really weird—girls and young women, some business types, some students, some—and I swear those meetings never developed into anything serious—housewives who came on kinda strong in some bar or other. Maybe I began to understand my former b-i-l and my ex-wife a little better. She’d probably gotten bored with me and they’d met in a bar and made their plans?

Well, as I say, I was traveling for my job, and I came to a small town in the mid-West, where some client had wanted to meet me. There was no close-by airport, save for a cow pasture about three miles out, so I had rented car and driven some ninety miles rather than risk my life on a kangaroo airline. I had to find a motel, and the only one seemed to be the hot pillow type—I could figure no other reason for it’s being where it was, the town was too small to support more than the one almost starter industry, from which my client had called for me. However, there were seven cars in the lot, for fifteen rooms, so it wasn’t doing too badly. I wondered what there was....

Well, the idiot client had gone out of town—I cannot figure why, he’d made the appointment—and I was stuck there overnight. Asking at the desk of the motel, I discovered that there was a "good restaurant"—by whose standards, I wondered—and I went there for supper. I sat up front in a booth, the back was really busy. I was generally pissed off and tired, but I brightened up a lot when I got a good look at the waitress.

"May I take your order, sir?" she asked, in a voice a good bit more mature than I remembered. She was still familiar.

"Why, you sure can, miss." I answered. Then it hit me.

"Bennie?" I whispered. I thought she would fall right out, but I saw her muscles tense in her effort to stand still, although she did blush very slightly. "My God! It’s...Fred?" She whispered, too. "Is it really you?"

"Is the man bothering you, Ginny?" asked a deep voice, and a hulk loomed up behind Bennie.

"No...no, not at all. I’ve known him for years, Jimmy Bob. It’s O K, really. This is my cousin...Gene." Her hesitation was very slight.

"O K, but you just don’t get funny with Ginny, Gene...call me if you need me, Ginny." He looked at me with deep suspicion, and slowly walked away to the counter, looking back at me with a scowl once or twice.

"Who...is that?" I asked, keeping my voice down.

"That?" She was murmuring, too. "Jimmy Bob? He’s the owner, thinks he owns me because I work here, Fr...Gene. Pay him no mind. He won’t hurt you, he’s just...worried. He thinks every man that comes in here is a...snoop, maybe." She laughed softly. "I don’t think you’re a Fed...are you?"

"Never, Bennie, but what’s with this ‘Ginny?’" "Oh, that’s been my name since Mother killed herself. I go by ‘Geneva Harlan’ these days."

"Married?"

"No, Fred. You?"

"No. I’m...sorry about your mother."

"Don’t sweat it. She was never ‘right’ after Dad ran off with Aunt Margie—Oh, I saw those two about six months ago, passing through. I hate to tell you that Margie still looks good, but Dad...Jesus, you’d think he’d been drinking hard all that time—maybe he has—or Margie’s giving him a lot of hell. They didn’t know me. Anyway...how’s with you?"

"Pretty good...lonely for these last five years, though, Bennie. You sure still look good!"

"You know...shit, he’s comin’..." her voice shook. "You better give me your order, Gene! I’ll see you after work."

"You a transient? You steady here, then?"

"I’ve been here almost eight months now, and I’m..." she raised her voice, "...figuring on staying for quite a while longer. Let me take your order. Can’t waste any more time."

Well, there was obviously something wrong, but I played it by ear and perused the menu. It did not look bad. Maybe I could work something out with "Ginny."

"What did you want to eat, Gene?" she asked hastily, pencil and notepad poised, as the hulk came walking down the aisle. I noticed that she still wasn’t using my right name.

"Right, let me have the Salisbury steak, gravy, mashed; how’re the green beans, french or cut?" I as hastily answered.

"Frenched, but the broccoli, b’lieve it, is better, it’s fresh, and the cook’s pretty good with veggies."

"O K. I’ll go with that, then. I’ll wait to order dessert later, O K?"

"Right. Gottit." She dropped back to a mutter as she was turning away to forestall the hulk.

"Off at eight, parking lot, motel." Luckily I heard her and did not show any reaction. I laid my hand casually on the table rim, showing four fingers, my room number. She nodded. "O K, Gene. It won’t take long."

The hulk seemed to be placated, and he returned to his watch over me from behind the counter. There were other customers in this "best restaurant in town." Shit, it was the only place I’d seen. I wished he’d watch them, too. Eventually, he got busy at the register.

The meal was amazingly good, and the broccoli was as good as I’ve eaten anywhere. I suppose I was all hyped up by the thought of seeing Bennie close up again and I did begin to wonder what she’d been doing for those five years or so. Obviously, she had been moving around a good deal, and how she had come to this podunk of a town I’d have to find out from her—if I really saw her again.

I was only a little bit surprised when she did show up in the motel parking lot driving a beat-up Chevy, unaccompanied as far as I could tell. I had the awful thought that the man mountain might follow her, or be in the car with her! She parked several doors down and walked slowly up to me.

"Hi," she said, as I held the door for her, and I could tell she was tired. Her eyes had shadows underneath, and I felt really sorry for this cute woman, figuring she had gone through a lot in five and a bit years.

"Bennie...can I call you that, now?...I can see you’re beat. Do you want to hit the sack alone in your room?"

"No! Fred...things are not as cool as I might have said they were at the restaurant. I’ve really got to get out of town, tonight, right now! I’m going to my room to pack—there’s not that much—and I’m gonna drive as far as I can away from here."

"Good God, Bennie, what’s happening?" "Well...Jimmy Bob’s a real bastard—like you couldn’t figure that out—and he’s into drugs in a big way—he’s the major distributor in this part of the state—tonight he’s got a big shipment coming in. He’s caught on to the fact that I know he’s into drugs in a big way, and I’m positive he’s gonna take care of me tonight, before that shipment comes in. He’s got a few of his ‘boys’ in to ‘help’ and one of ‘em’s a killer, for sure!"

"Judas Priest! Then you want to get away from here real quick? And safely?"

"Yes, please God, I’ll make it out of here with a head on my shoulders!"

"That kind of ‘taking care,’ eh?" I asked, as I quickly folded my clothing, grabbed my shaving stuff and portfolio and put them in my big bag. It was a task I could do in my sleep, hurriedly. I pulled the portfolio back out at the last moment.

"Fred, you stay the hell out of this. This is my trouble, not yours!"

"No, it is not just yours. I’ve been missing you like hell for five years or more, you crazy girl, and we’re going to get the hell out of here together. Look, I have plenty of cash, several good credit cards, and we can make the next city before dawn, I think, no worry." I sneaked a quick look out the window. A car was pulling slowly into the lot.

"Stay away from your room, your car! Forget your clothes, your stuff. We’ll get more in St Louis. There’s a big black car pulling into the lot right now, and there’s three guys gettin’ out. We gotta get you into my car, hidden and drive out of here!"

"Thanks—you damn’ fool, you!" She puckered at me, then ducked back from the window as the car’s headlights swung across.

"Right. I’ll put my bag in the car, now. Let me look around while I check out. Anyway, it’s that dark blue ‘99 Ford, parked just to the left of the door, facing out. I’ll click the doors open, as I go—leave this’n open a bit—and when you see me walking back, if it’s clear, I’ll swipe my hand over my hair and you duck out and get in. Hunch down real small. Got it?"

Well, it shouldn’t have worked, but it did. I was not, after all, foolish enough to leave without letting a thug overhear me slam down the keys to the room, bitch to the clerk at the counter that I wouldn’t stay, the room didn’t suit after all. I griped that a guy (I named him) had made an appointment and then stood me up and that I had to move on—maybe the goon thought I was in the "trade," too, if he was really in Jimmy Bob’s organization—to the big city.

Bennie scrunched down in the front well until I had pulled clear of the lot in as much of a hurry as I thought I could get away with; two of the three guys were busy walking along the sidewalk, looking around, trying the doors of several rooms, not paying any attention to me, and I just hoped they didn’t get the car’s plate number. They obviously had Bennie’s Chevy taped, ’cause the other guy was standing by it.

We got on the freeway bound west without anyone following us as far as we could tell. The only car that sorta hung with us on the highway was an "undercover" cop car—under cover, all but the Illinois SP license plate!—and I was frankly just as happy to see him—or maybe her, these days.

Bennie snuggled down against me as I drove, and I put one arm around her until I remembered the cop, but that didn’t keep me from brushing my hand against her breasts every few minutes, and her murmuring something or other as I did so. I got so het up I wanted to pull over and fuck her right there on the highway—but my friend the cop car was with us until the city line, just about.

We got to the city just about 3:00 in the morning and I checked us in to a real hotel which had security guards, as man and wife. I used a company credit card, squiggling my signature, knowing I could square it later. I did not want to use a personal one. I bypassed the lack of bags for Benicia by bringing in a smaller one of mine—actually, my larger portfolio—and we got a really nice suite.

Bennie was so tired that she just collapsed on one of the two double-beds and I undressed her—she was still in her waitress uniform—and put her to bed under the covers. I loved handling her still firm and pretty body after all those years. She smelled sexy, even after a hard day’s work, and I got half a hard on just remembering about her and me.

I left a call for seven, with a particular word that I was to be notified at once if anyone asked at the desk for me; otherwise, "do not disturb."

Bennie finally opened her eyes at about nine o’clock, rolled over and was wide awake right away. The first words she uttered: "Well, good looking, what are we gonna have for breakfast?" "Still the waitress? Anything you want, lovely. Don’t be afraid, I haven’t raped you while you slept, Jimmy Bob or his goons aren’t around—I’m damn’ sure he’s not—and I think we’re home free."

"God, do I hope you’re right! I was as frightened as I’ve ever been last night. Thank God you were there! And thanks for that lie about missing me. It made me feel better about running away with you, Fred."

"Why do you think I was lying, Bennie? I’m not."

"Oh my God! You really mean it? I..." she broke down and cried and sobbed for ten minutes, my arms around her. After she calmed down, went to the bathroom and cleaned up, she sat holding my hand. "Oh, shit, Fred. I guess...no, I know I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen. It’s true. Why d’you think I...sucked you off that time I told you Margie had run off with my dad? I was willing to do anything, I’m glad you got my cherry, too, Fred, I really wanted it to be you. I did! And you were so gentle, I loved you even more."

"It’s my turn, Bennie. Look, I’ve made a good life since then. I want you to have a good life, too. And I love you very much. How’s about we get married?"

"N-no...not now, but let me think about it, Fred. I’m in big trouble with a drug distributor who’s probably after my butt, at least. I could bring a lot a trouble on you. I’m hot in the wrong sense, right now..."

"Yes, I do understand. You want time, safe time, to think and decide. I can go along with that." I had to ask. "How, by the way, have you made out for love life? Been getting any?"

"Oh, for God’s sake, Fred! Move around I have, but I haven’t been whoring! Shit, I’m not awake! I’ve had one or two short-term lovers, no diseases, I’ve been using my old buddies Rosy Palm and her daughters, Fred. I haven’t had time to have any outside love in my life. I didn’t feel safe enough to have any, either—Jimmy Bob sure as hell wasn’t gettin’ any!"

"Thought so. O K, we’ll play it cool, but if I jerk off in front of you, you’ll understand why, won’t you? After all, you’re only wearing a bra and panties, and don’t kid me, your panties are wet, babes!"

"You wouldn’t!"

"Oh, yes, I would. After all these years, Bennie, I can still think of your body and get a helluva hard on. Now I can look at your perfect form...look, it’s..."

"You big bum. Sure is! It’s not safe, but I want you right now, too! You stupid man, you’ll get us killed, I know it, but let’s get it on!"

"Maybe you’re right," I said as I moved to embrace her, "and it’s not safe, but I told the management we weren’t to be disturbed, and they’ve got security men, probably on every floor in the hotel, for that matter."

"So, O K! I said, ‘Let’s get it on,’ dammit! Shuck those pyjamas, Freddie!"

I did as she said, my penis sticking out in front of me just as rigidly as it had five years before. She did the same thing, too.

She leaned forward, I was there, and she licked the glans and I jumped.

"Gawd! I didn’t think you were that sensitive after all this time. Surprised, or really that sensitive, Fred love?"

"Shit, Bennie, I haven’t had real sex in a good long time—since you—don’t look like that, it’s true. I’ve jacked off when I was too horny to be seen in public, but that’s not sex, not after you, darling!"

"Well, flattery will get you thoroughly fucked, buddy. Come on, let me at it."

She very softly took me into her again, and just as slowly accepted all of me into her mouth and throat. I believed her when she said she’d not had sex with more than two men in those five years, but she had somehow learned to manipulate my cock with her throat muscles—reading books?—and she was really good at it.

I fondled her shoulders as much as I was able, and I noticed that she had what felt like shallow scars on her back. I made no comment. I felt myself starting to cum, and I withdrew from her ministrations as fast as I could without hurting her. "That’s as good as when you first did that, Bennie. Now, do we tie you up like I did so long ago?" "If you want, but do it soon, I need you inside me, and I don’t give a damn if you have a condom or not, Freddie. I know you’ve got to be clean, and I promise you I am. And I won’t mind getting pregnant by you, either."

I pulled her panties down, but this time I took them off, nor did I tie her up. I wanted her arms around me if I was going to fuck her right. She shucked quickly out of her bra, and threw it across the room with a snort of disgust.

I was standing just where I had been when she had played with me. She slipped onto the bed and lay on her back and then she slowly, tantalizingly, raised her long legs up and over, so that her labia were exposed—and leaking fluid already, I could see. Her breasts, even when she was on her back like that, were still shapely and firm.

I just plain didn’t wait for a word between us, I was on that bed with my mouth in her crack, my tongue seeking, seeking up and down her, until I found that little nubbin and she jumped, as she had once before. I managed to sneak a finger into her, too, and found her g-spot. She moaned, writhed a bit and said, "Oh, please, do that real easy, love. It feels better than you can ever know."

"Better than...before, dearest?"

"Yes. Don’t care why. Just do it real slow and lick me tender. O-oo, that’s good."

Her breasts were so nice and firm and her nipples, now that they were stimulated, rose and stood like little soldiers at attention, leaning a bit away from each other. I peeked as I came to the upward end of my lickings and saw them waiting for me.

"Oh, oh, oh, Fred, get it in me, I’ll cum all over you."

She was twisting and turning, her legs were clamping on my neck, but her thighs felt good there, and I was loving the taste of her, so I took my time. Was I not surprised when she flooded me with her juices as she moaned and bucked, her legs clasping and unclasping as I suddenly struggled for breath? I managed to free myself, but I put two fingers back into her and massaged her until she slowly came down off her climax.

"A-ah. That was good, love, really wonderful. I bet we can do that a lot after all this time."

"Let’s try. You want breakfast—I mean, you’ve had your snack, love, now d’you want something else?" She laughed, a reminder of her younger gaiety.

"Yep. How ‘bout steak an’ eggs? I could go for a big breakfast—and can we eat it here? I don’t want to go to the diningroom."

I started to kid her about being a movie star, but I thought better of it, so I ordered from room service. It was a Friday morning, the hotel wasn’t real busy with week-end trade yet, and we got quick service.

The waiter looked at me seriously when I was going to tip him, and asked,

"May I speak to you privately, sir?"

I thought, but I went with him to the little entrance foyer.

"I thought I ought to mention, sir, that this hotel has very good, very efficient security. We protect our guests in all ways possible. I’m security myself, and we’ve apprehended a known drug dealer who was attempting to enter through the service elevator doors earlier this morning. When we caught him, he asked for a young lady who looks like your wife, sir. He’s in police custody, and from their obvious pleasure at having him, I don’t think he’ll be out on the street for some time."

Well, he refused my offer of a pretty good tip, but I did not mention what he’d said to Bennie, for fear it would raise her fears once again. I did ask the man what his advice on leaving or staying was, and he said we would be perfectly safe in the suite, although we should keep the door chained, and he’d make certain we got away from the hotel safely when we felt like leaving. "No hurry," were his words. I felt a lot better.