Bennie
   	by C ©
It had been what sometimes seemed forever (yet only five years) since my divorce — an easy one for me, as it was my former wife Marnie who ran off  with her older sister’s husband. I stayed carefully single and roaming a bit for those years, too. I badly missed my little playmate from the day I had learned of my unfaithful wife from her own niece! That cute niece, just 18 at the time, and I (24, then) had a week of wild sex, for my wife’s sister had taken off after the two adulterers 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 know she grew up a lot that week, just as I grew to love her. 

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 before she took off. 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...when we weren’t making love. 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. As for 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 women 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 — women, some business types, some students, some — and I swear those never developed into anything serious — temporarily “lonely” housewives who came on kinda strong in some bar or other. Maybe I began to understand my former brother-in-law and my ex-wife a little better. She’d probably gotten bored with me, our life together, and they’d met in some 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, only a hyped-up cow pasture about three miles out, so I had rented a 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 me. However, there were seven cars in the lot for fifteen rooms, so it wasn’t doing too badly. I wondered what was going on . . . . 

Well, when I called to let my client know I was in town, the idiot client had gone out of town — I couldn’t figure why he’d made the appointment — and it looked like 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 near the register 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 pretty waitress. 

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

"Why, you sure can, miss." I answered. Then I was all but certain. 

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

"That?" She was murmuring, too, leaning over my shoulder while pointing out things on the menu. "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...narc, maybe." She laughed softly. "I don’t think you’re a Fed . . . are you?"

"Never, 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." Sure I was.

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

"Pretty good . . . lonely for these last five years, though, Be . . . Ginny. 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 transient? Or you steady here?" 

"I’ve been here almost eighteen months now, and I’m..." she raised her voice, "...figuring on staying for quite a while longer. Made up your mind? 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 shakily, pencil and notepad poised, as the hulk came looming down the aisle. I noticed that she still wasn’t using my right name. 

"Right, let me have the Salisbury steak, gravy on the mashed; how’re the green beans, french or cut?" I as shakily 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. Black coffee with.  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, room nine, 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. ’won’t take long."

The hulk seemed placated, and he returned to his watch 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 fresh and 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 my room.

"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 . . .  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 I know he’s a distributor, 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, I know 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, while I was quickly folding my clothing, grabbing my shaving stuff and portfolio and putting them in my big bag. It was a task I could do in my sleep, hurriedly. I pulled the folded duffel 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, crazy girl, and we’re going to get the hell out of here together. I don’t think that car of yours will get you far...could be tracked. Look, I have plenty of cash, several good credit cards...and we can make the next city before dawn,  no worry." 

I sneaked a quick look out the window. A big black car was pulling slowly into the lot. 

"Stay away from your room, your car! Forget your clothes, any stuff. Got your wallet? Good. We’ll get more clothes in St Louis. There’s a black car just pulled into the lot,  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. The driver parked it near the exit to the parking lot. I closed the drapes. 

"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 pff-center just to the left of the door, facing out. I’ll click the doors open as I go—I’ll shut off the room lights, leave the room door open a crack—and you watch me walking back. If it’s clear, I’ll swipe my hand over my hair and you duck out and get in, front right, when I open my car door. 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 one of the thugs overhear me slam down the keys to the room, bitch to the clerk at the counter that I couldn’t stay, had another customer to see early in the morning. I griped that the local 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 was smart enough to crouch waiting for me to open my door—the door light went on, but her door was open anyway—slipped in, waited until my door started swinging shut, then made her door slam the same time as mine. She 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 gunsels 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 see the car’s plate number. They obviously had Bennie’s Chevy taped, ’cause the other guy was standing right by it. The parked car never moved.

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 unmarked cop car—undercover maybe, all but the Illinois SP license plate!—and I was frankly just as happy to see him—or maybe her, even if it meant I kept my speed down. 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 our 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 as man and wife to a real hotel which had security guards. I used a company credit card, squiggling my signature, knowing I could square it later. I surely 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 duffel — 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 firm and pretty body after all those years. She smelled sexy to me, even kinda sweaty as she was after her 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 ya 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 scared 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 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 Aunt Marnie had run off with my dad? I was willing to do anything, and 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?"

"...no...not . . . now, but let me think about it, Fred. I’m in big trouble with a drug distributor who’s after me, probably wants real badly to finish me. 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." Then I had to ask. 

"How, by the way, have you made out for love life? Been getting any?" 

"Oh, God, Fred! Moved around a lot  I have, but I haven’t been whoring! Shit, I’m not awake!” She knuckled her eyes, “I’ve had one or two short-term bed-mates, no diseases, I’ve been using my old buddies Rosy Palm and her daughters, Fred. I haven’t had time to have any love in my life. I didn’t feel safe enough to have any, in the last year and a half — Jimmy Bob sure as hell wasn’t gettin’ any!" 

"Thought not. 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, sweets!" 

"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. It sure is! It’s not safe, but I want you right now, too! You stupid man, we’ll get 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, 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?"

"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 having a baby by you, either." 

I pulled her panties down, but this time I neither left them on her, 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’s real ready, but 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’m gonna 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 have it here? I don’t wanna go to the diningroom."

I started to kid her about being a movie star, but I thought better of it, considering who was maybe after her, 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 as he turned to leave, and asked,

"May I speak to you privately, sir?"

Uh, oh, what’s this? 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, efficient security. We protect our guests in all ways possible. I work waiter and security part-time myself. 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.

"And what was that all about, Fred?" asked that sharp cookie Bennie when I came back into the livingroom. 

"He was making certain that we knew that we were safe here," I said, leaving out any mention of (probably) Jimmy Bob’s arrest.

"Well," she said, stretching voluptuously, and I watched those lovely curves with my cock starting to stir.

"Don’t you think we could...?" she started to ask, but I was already shucking my bathrobe and starting toward her. 

"Ooh! You are in a hurry, and I would say, looking at certain clues, that you’re kinda ready, too, huh?" 

She shucked out of the bathrobe she was half wearing, courtesy of the hotel, and stood there for a moment with her arms over her head, her taut, lovely figure just pulling me toward her. Bennie’s arms came down to encircle me, trapping my arms by my side. She kissed me slowly, her tongue seeking to part my lips as I played with her, trying to keep them tightly closed. She of course won, her tongue darting in to wrestle with mine while she let my arms go and grabbed my bouncing cock in one hand while she held the back of my neck so that she could ravish me with her mouth and tongue. I felt down along her tummy until I found her bush, slowly inserting my finger along her crack to the vulva, which was good and wet, and I judged, ready for a different digit to be inserted. 

"On the bed, wench!" I growled in my best imitation Bogart. She chuckled and led me in an impromptu dance toward the bed, which was, naturally, not as yet made. 

“Oh, hell, wait a minute," I protested. "I’ve got to hang a ‘Do Not’ sign on the door!" 

"‘Do Not,’" she gasped, laughing, "What? ‘Do Not Fuck?’ for the poor people outside, you mean, don’t you?"

"Yes," I laughed over my shoulder as I hurried, almost running, to the door. I got the sign hung and returned, to find her with her fingers deep inside herself. 

"I couldn’t wait," she explained, "come into me, right now."

I slid slowly between her wide-spread legs, her bent knees, and engaged the head of my completely rigid and pulsing cock with her lips. Slowly, as she moaned and begged me to hurry, I inserted myself deeper and deeper into her lovely body. She had a terrific grip on my arms for a moment until she changed to wrapping her arms around my back and butt, holding me as close to her as possible. She pushed her pelvis against me as hard as she could. Her heels pummeled my lower back.

I had placed one hand on each side of her, but now I got one under her buttocks, and as I reached the back of her vagina with my cock I pulled her tightly against me. With my other hand I played with her hair and face and breasts and nipples as long as I could stand  it. We kissed with steaming tongues, twining and twisting. Our desires must have been pent up too long, for we came together in a tangle of tremendous writhing and pounding of pelvises, our bodies contorting in impossible configurations as we continued to climax time after time. We wound up locked into each other’s arms, our pelvises as tight together as they could be. Bennie spoke at last.

"Oh, my love, that was so . . . ‘wonderful’ does not get it, does it, lover?" We remained locked closely, intertwined.

"No, just ‘love’ gets it, I think, hon’."

"Golly, Fred, no one’s called me ‘hon’‘ in so long." Her voice was wistful. She hugged me again, tightly, her eyes moist.

"Come on, say you’ll marry me and you can hear me call you ‘hon’ all day long, dear." 

"Trouble still, Fred darling. I can’t let you be involved with that slime Jimmy Bob." I had to tell her what the rent-a-cop had told me.

"The cops arrested Jimmy Bob early this morning, honey, while we slept. I guess you were right that he was after you, or us, ’cause they got him trying to get through the back doors into the hotel."

"Are you sure?"

"The waiter was a Pinkerton — or one of those rent-a-cops — and he told me they’d arrested a drug dealer trying to get into the hotel, asking for ‘someone who looks like your wife,’ is what the cop said. I’m certain from the description that it was Jimmy Bob."

"Could be. That bastard might be able to slime his way out of the rap, but maybe, if we go far and fast, we’ll get free of him. Do you think he got your tag number?"

"No, and I just remembered it’s not mine, it’s rented by my company. Would he have a cop in his pocket to let him into motor vehicle records, d’you think?"

"Could be, most likely not. Let’s go away, anyway, lover. Maybe I’ll get over this fear of Jimmy Bob." 

A nasty thought struck me just then. I wondered how best to ask her. Straight out. We’d better be honest with each other. 

"Uhm. Bennie. Are you a narc?"

"Yeah, sorta, an ‘informed source,’ a squealer, but I didn’t want you to know that, damn it! Yeah, I’d been telling a DEA agent what I knew about Jimmy Bob and his pals for about six weeks—that’s what the bugger has against me, but how he found out...."

"Leak. Some cop’s in his pay. I know about that, hon’. Yeah, you’re right, maybe it’d be best if we pulled up stakes and circled back toward the East, huh?" 

"I suppose so, Fred. You’re not worried?"

"What? Yes, of course I’m worried that something will happen to stop us getting married, damn it! And I sure as hell don’t want anything happening to you — or me — but you’re more important."  

"But . . . I didn’t say I would . . . well, hell, Fred, if you really want me as your blushing bride...." 

"Yeay, team! You don’t blush much, hon’, when I’m tickling your..."

"Don’t you say it, you’ll get me all worked up again. Hadn’t we better eat this cold breakfast and then get your bags loaded..."

"Shit, I forgot that car’s runnin’ up a tab! I’ve gotta get airline tickets for you and me, and turn that damn car in. Lemme at that ‘phone. We’re wasting time. Look, think we can get married today? This is Missouri, maybe we can find a justice or someone, a clerk of the court—yeah, it’s Friday, not the week-end —and we’ll be married before we fly home. Then we can play to our hearts’ content on the way back."

"You mean . . . fuck on the airplane? How would we get away with that?" 

"Oh, hell, I’ve read enough about it, we go first class, cover ourselves with a blanket and make like bunnies, Bennie." I was grinning broadly, and I saw her eyes light up with that old mischief. 

"Ooh, and fake out the attendants?"

"Sure, but they probably know what goes on in their airplanes, hon’, and I don’t think they care, even if it’s no longer ‘Coffee, tea or me?’ these days." 

"You’re becoming a dirty old man, y’know that, Fred? I’m not sure a pure young babe like me should marry an old fucker like you."

"You said the operative word, love," and I grabbed her, swung her onto the bed and was licking at her lower lips before she could do more than say  “Hey!”

We’d neither of us thought to put on our bathrobes, so we’d been joking around in the nude.  I raised my head for a second to remark, "And that’s not ‘becoming,’ sweetheart, I am already."

Oh, Bennie smelled so good, even the dried cum and juices were aphrodisiacal, and my penis was like a sword when I started to enter her. She was streaming wet, juice running down the crack of her ass onto the already soiled sheets. Boy, the maid would have a time with those, wouldn’t she?