Date: Tue, 19 Sep 2006 10:31:21 -0700 (PDT)
From: Gunter Ragen <gruntraq@yahoo.com>
Subject: Bennie Part 1

This is a true set of circumstances with a
fictionalized result. Names have been changed.

Bennie Part 1 - By Gruntraq

Bennie was the older step brother of my  high school
pal Doyle. We all used to party together,  chased
pussy together, and get in trouble together. It was a
scene not unlike the gang in the movie "The
Outsiders", except that I was from the "better side of
the tracks" but chose to hang with these guys because
we just really clicked. We spent half our lives at
Bennie and Doyle's house listening to heavy metal,
reading playboys, drinking beer, smoking , and
wrenching on our cars. Their parents were both gone
most of the time hated each other anyway. It was
usually just one of them at home at any time and they
allowed partying even when they were there, so just
about anything went. We all had after school jobs and
usually pooled what money we had to cover our beer and
gas needs.

Quite different from my long time pal Doyle, Bennie
was a raw Italian guy with more machismo than even two
guys  needed. He was not too tall, about 5'-8" but
built well proportionately. He had a perfect Adonis
shape with the pronounced V torso and a solid set of
wide shoulders thick arms. His ass was nice and tight
and always looked best in a pair of Levi 501's. He
could never keep a shirt on, his tanned chest was only
lightly haired allowing the few battle scars of his
past street fights to show across his stomach. His
square jaw line was anchored with a small chin dimple
and a thin mustache. He had a short mullet of dark
wavy  hair and the darkest deepest brown eyes I have
ever seen. Behind his pronounced Italian nose those
eyes were the windows into his soul that was afire.
Afire? He had that alpha-male presence that always put
you and every one else on notice. Guys got it. Women
got it, and he got them - lots of them. I lost count
of the many weekends Doyle and I were in the bedroom
next to his listening to him fuck the shit out of the
latest chick. He would often come in and see us
afterwards to gloat, rubbing his cock and drunkenly
bragging about his manhood. He would stand there in
his underwear, a thick package still evident, rubbing
it. The smell of his sex would fill the room. Damn
that made me hard as a rock.

The other side of Bennie was his rage. He was a hot
head and when he got drunk there was always a fight
with someone. When he could not find a foe out on the
street, he would take it out on my friend and I. While
he never hurt us, he loved to haze and make you think
you were in for it. He liked wrestling you down and
pinning you until you apologized foe whatever you did
and making sure you knew he would kick your ass. It
was his way.

We always teased each other about being fags but that
was more a machismo based hazing, so I had thought. I
was always turned on by it and fantasized, but kept it
under wraps as I knew if I acted on it I would lose a
lot.

The last year we hung out, Bennie had already
graduated HS and was 18 now. Doyle and I were both 17
and headed for our senior year. Bennie worked at a
local gas station as an attendant. He was always a
damn hot stud in the blue coveralls he wore at work.
He would be greasy and smelling of gasoline every time
he came home. At the time he had no car or it was
broken, I cant remember. He would get rides from Doyle
or other friends to and from work most of the time.
This one particular night I went by the station to get
some gas and Bennie was still there. He had some guy's
tire down on the ground and was jabbing one of those
repair plugs into it. After I filled up I pulled over
to the side and came over to BS with him for a few
minutes. As normal he was covered with dirt and grease
with sweat staining much of the upper part of his
coveralls.

He was pretty quick to ask if I had time to give him a
ride home when he got off work. I told him I had
nothing going, and was planning on heading over to
their place tonight anyway to see what  was up. He
told me that he and his girlfriend were fighting and
Doyle went up north to visit his mom for the weekend,
that nobody else was around to give him the ride. This
was not unusual, so I hung out and we BS'd for the
next half hour until he got off work. When it came
time he punched out and washed his hands in the grimy
sink at the garage. He then grabbed a small brown bag
from his locker and waved it at me with a shit eating
grin. "I got us hooked up for a buzz ", he said as he
walked. When we got to the car he pulled out a big
bottle of Jack Daniels Old No. 7. "This old man I know
that comes in here every day gave me this for free",
he said. "He just said it was helping with his car
over the past months". I was pretty stoked as I now
knew we were gonna get pretty fucked up tonight, and
we didn't have to go hang out in front of 7-11 asking
for someone to buy us beer all night to get there.

We originally planned to hang out at his parents
house, crank some tunes, get drunk, and see if any
friends were up for a party. Unfortunately for us both
his parents were there, already drunk and were well
into a long night of fighting. This was normal when
the two of them were together and these were times we
always stayed away. Upon our arrival things were
flying across the room, so we left pretty much
immediately. Ben had wanted to shower away the day's
sweat and oil and change his clothes, but we just
wanted to get out of there. So we walked a block down
to our alternate party place, the neighborhood park.
Many of us in the neighborhood used to party there
when no where else was available.

It was dark out, and on the walk to the park Ben
popped the cap on the JD and began taking a few swigs.
Noticeably irritated about the scene back home, he
wanted to get started. We passed the bottle back and
forth as we made our way to the small wooded park. The
place was a pretty cool party spot. It had some open
areas with benches, picnic tables, and ball fields,
but was bordered by thickly wooded areas that allowed
you to drink and smoke without the local PD seeing ya
there.

We found our usual spot at the edge of the field just
into the woods and sat on the grass. He was hitting
the JD pretty hard and I was struggling to keep up.
Agitated by his girl problems, car problems, and
parent problems he was stewing over there as we drank.
As we hit the half way mark on the JD, we were feeling
the warm sullen numbness that whiskey brings. He was
relaxing a little as our conversation turned to our
current lack of places to go and his women to fuck.
While I really never had many girls, he did all the
time. For him a couple days without pussy was like a
couple of days without water.  "Damn I need to get
some pussy", he'd say and rub his package. "I've been
hard all day - FUCK!". He'd take another long draw off
the JD and wince.

I had always wanted to have at this Italian Stud.
Years ago, my first wet dream was him pounding me in
the ass as I woke to a shooting stream of cum on my
sheets. I smartly kept my desires to myself however as
he was the older brother of my best friend whom I did
not want to loose or cross.  I had jacked off many
nights listening to him fuck in the room next door as
Doyle slept. I spent the next hour engaging him in
deeper conversation as we proceeded to get pretty
plowed. He was still on edge and had that
semi-volatile aura as we got beyond the usual idle
chat. There was a fire of rage in there just
smoldering, waiting for enough alcohol or the right
flashpoint to come out.

He leaned back on the grass and wiped the sweat from
his brow with the sleeve of his blue coveralls. He was
sexy as ever. Smelling of sweat, gas and oil. He was
feeling pretty dirty though, and unzipped the top half
of his uniform. Pulling his sweaty arms from the
sleeves, he rolled the coveralls down over his waist
and took another drink. His odor filled the air like a
plume of smoke rolling from a fire. I covertly admired
his muscular torso as he stretched out and laid back
on the grass. "Damn that feels better", he let out
with a deep voice. "I wish I could have gotten a
shower, I stink." "Yup, ya sure do", I kidded. Looser
from the booze, he chidingly stuck his hand down in
his crotch coddling his package and then smelled it.
"Whoooo! That is rank shit!" he exclaimed. I was still
pulling my eyes from the line of hair going down his
belly button into the roll of blue coveralls when he
grabbed my face with his cock hand pushing me over on
the ground. Playfully but aggressively he snuffed his
hand on my mouth and nose giving me a full dose of the
sweat off his cock. "Smells pretty bad huh!", ha
laughed continuing to hold my head down on the grass.
As I struggled he rolled over pinning me down with a
knee in my groin and rubbing my face harder with his
hand. He finally pulled back, releasing me and said
with a taunting smile, "Sorry, I could not resist",
then laughed more as he took another swig. "I know you
like it anyway , I think you're part fag", he kidded.
I grabbed the bottle and took another my self,
pretending to wash his cock off my lips. Inside I was
reeling. His rank cock sweat was permeating my
nostrils and lips, I could taste it. I was getting
hard.

I finally peeled my T-Shirt off as the heat of the JD
began to make me sweat. Bennie was sitting cross
legged next to me as we faced out toward the empty
ball field. His overalls now rolled down to his waist,
I was able to admire his studism. The occasional car
would go by in the distance, but in our deeply setting
buzz we barely noticed.

He pulled out his pocket knife and began fiddling with
it like he usually does when he is drunk. Still
euphoric from his cock smell on my face I asked him
about the scar on his stomach. "How did you get that
scar?", I asked, "I always wanted to know" . He
shuddered mildly as he tipped the bottle for another
shot. "When I lived in San Jose, I got in a fight with
some Chicano fucks." He pulled his overalls down and
away and cleared the area so I could see. "Three of
them beat the shit out of me and one of them stabbed
me right here". The scar was diagonal from just left
of his belly button and led down toward his left groin
area just below his belt line. He pulled his coveralls
far enough down that I could see his pubic hair
escaping, as he motioned back and forth with his hand
along the line of the cut. "The guy thought I was
fucking his girlfriend and he wanted to make a point
if ya know what I mean", he smiled. "Well it looks
like he almost did." I said in a kidding way.

He then ran his hands down into his package again and
clenched his meat under the overalls, letting out a
relieving sigh. Snapping his dark eyes my way he said,
"I would have killed him if he did". He kind of paused
for a minute and said "I gotta take a piss". He stood
up, holding his overalls up and took a few steps over
to the nearest tree. As I started to hear his piss hit
the ground I followed suit and went over and joined
him a few feet away. Pretty drunk, I confidently
looked over at his dick and watched him piss for a
couple seconds. The first time I had seen his meet in
the flesh, it was fat shit. Man he was thick. He shook
off the last drops and looked over at me. I had looked
away but he knew I was watching. "You want to see
it?", he taunted. He stepped over and let it hang out
right in front of me and wagged it back and forth. It
hung about half mast as he held his balls in one hand.
Looking up at me he said, "7 inches when it is hard,
how about you?". I was at first a little taken aback
but mustered a reply, "Uh, well about 6 and a half I
guess - that is pretty impressive there Bennie". With
a flash of that drunken quite rage in his eye, he then
abruptly shoved it back in his coveralls and sat back
down where we were.

I came back and sat down and grabbed the bottle of JD.
It was about ¾ gone now. I was starting to feel that
rising combination or horniness and nervousness when
you know something is afoot. Bennie took another drink
and resumed playing with his knife. "You ever felt a
knife against your skin?" he asked me looking right in
my eyes. Immediately on guard I said, "Yes, remember a
couple months ago, you threatened me with it when I
made fun of your girlfriend. Remember? You had it
right against my neck". Nodding knowingly he
acknowledged. "Yeah that is right, you squirmed like a
girl", he said. I remembered that night well. While I
was afraid he would actually stick me, I was turned on
as I felt his arms around me in a hold, his warmth
penetrating me, as he held a threatening knife to my
throat. I know that is whacked, but what can I say. I
finally replied, "Well, you were drunk and I didn't
know what you were going to do". "Yeah, I get out of
control sometimes, but I would never hurt you", he
said.

He laid back on the grass again and began running the
tip of his knife back and forth along his scar. He
looked over at me and noticed I was watching him. He
just looked at me quietly with those deep dark eyes as
he stroked the knife back and forth. I was laying back
on the grass a foot or so from him in a kind of a
drunken trance.

He suddenly rolled over behind me and grabbed me
around the chest with his thick left arm. He then
rolled into a full on pin-down position behind me with
his leg wound over mine. With his groin pressed into
my ass.  His sweaty chest  rubbed against my bare back
as his stubbly face and chin slid over my right
shoulder. At first I resisted his moves, but gave in
and let him engulf my body. It felt so damn good, and
he was doing it. With his 5 `o'clock stubble rubbing
against my ear and his thick arm against my chest he
whispered deeply, "So, does this twist you up bro?"

Continued in Bennie Part 2